


Bound and Tide

by hearts_0f_kyber (rw_eaden)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (See Author's Notes), (basically), Abuse, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background and Past Relationship, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Folklore, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Midsummer, Misunderstandings, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Pseudo-Pagan Beliefs and Traditions, Rape/Non-con Elements, Selkies, Slavery, Soft Boy Ben Solo, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/pseuds/hearts_0f_kyber
Summary: After the death of her mother, Rey and her father packed up and moved away from the island she was born on to spend the rest of their days in the unforgiving desert. She’d spent fourteen years in the sand and the heat, longing for home and the ocean that sang to her every night when she closed her eyes.But with the death of her father, Rey was given the opportunity to move home again. She’d known it wouldn’t be the same, but she hadn’t expected it to be so… strange. There’s something different in the air now, something haunting that lingers in the air and plagues her dreams. But what does it mean for her, for the island, and for the mysterious man she almost remembers?A re-upload.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload of a fic I started posting back in May and then took down. It's a long story but needless to say, I will be continuing it now. Not 100% sure on the update schedule, though. 
> 
> A brief warning: the non-con elements tag is because this is a selkie AU and there is obviously some issues with bodily autonomy, agency, and non-sexual consent that go into that. I do not plan on really delving into issues of sexual consent in this AU (you'll see why later but I don't really want to spoil the fic in my introductory notes). This fic does contain some allusions to and acts of domestic violence of a few different flavors. I will warn for that in the A/N when we get to those chapters. (And before you ask, no, it's not between Rey and Ben.) If you have any questions at all, please feel free to contact me either here or on tumblr (link in end notes). 
> 
> Also, though I am the writer of this fic, sometimes characters do things I was not expecting. I will try to keep the tags one chapter ahead (so something tagged might not show up until next update) but sometimes characters surprise me. This is an E-rated fic though, so there will be some explicit boinking later on so you've got that to look forward to. :) 
> 
> Also, also, this first chapter is a little different. The language is pretty simple because Rey is about five years old. It will change in the next chapter, when she's an adult. So if the simplicity bothers you, just know it's only for the prologue.

_ Fourteen Years Ago  _

Rey sits on a high rock, just past the shore. She likes it here. The surf is loud and strong here, loud enough to make the rest of the world disappear. Her dad has always said she needed to be careful, that if he called to her or she called to him they wouldn’t hear each other over the waves. She had promised she would be, but she still isn’t allowed to come here alone. 

She isn’t sure if she’d ever be not alone again, though, now that her mom is gone. Her dad said she drowned and they couldn’t find her. Rey had to say goodbye to an empty casket at the funeral. Her mom is gone now, lost to sea and Rey wouldn’t even be able to visit the hole they’d pretended to bury her in because they were moving away. Dad said it was to somewhere with more sun, somewhere with less water. Rey doesn’t get a say, but if she did she’d tell him she wanted to stay. After the funeral, they went home and packed and packed and packed until there was nothing left in the house but dust. Her dad told her she’d make new friends. She’d start school in the fall. She’d grow up in the sunshine and get to play outside because it didn’t rain all the time. But Rey didn’t want to leave.  She likes the beach and the rain and the sea. And she doesn’t want to leave her mom behind. 

“Girl, why do you cry?” 

Rey jumps, nearly slipping off the rock she’s sitting on. There’s a boy peeking out of the water just a few feet away, staring at her. “Where did you come from?” She squawks. 

He tilts his head, squinting at her like she’s said something funny. “The water.” 

“Don’t you know you’re not ‘aposed to swim near the rocks? The waves will push you into ‘em and you’ll drown,” she says, sniffling. She wipes her nose on her sleeve, even though she knows she’s not supposed to. 

“It’s never been a problem for me before,” the boy says. 

“My daddy says it’s dangerous. Didn’t your daddy tell you it’s dangerous?” 

The boy shakes his head, his wet curls slapping against his cheeks. “If it’s so dangerous why are you here? Aren’t you afraid of drowning?” 

“I wasn’t gonna go in the water,” Rey says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The boy pulls himself closer with half a stroke. He’s looking up at her, now, dipping lower in the water until only his head pokes out. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says. 

“What question?” 

“Why do you cry?” 

Rey looks down at her bare feet, slapping them against the wet stone. She made sure to take her shoes off at the shore. It’s slipperier if she tries to climb the rocks with shoes on. 

“I’m not ‘aposed to talk to strangers,” she says. 

“You’re not supposed to be on the rocks, either,” the boy says. He smiles up at her and she can’t help but giggle. 

“You’re sad,” he says. 

Rey nods her head. 

“Why are you sad?” 

Rey lets out a soft breath. Her throat feels sticky from all the spit and tears she’s worked up over the past few days. “My mom is gone, so now my daddy says we have to go away.” 

“Go away where?” 

“I don’t know. Far away, where there is no ocean.” 

“That sounds terrible,” the boy says, popping up a little straighter in the water. 

“I don’t wanna go,” Rey says. She sniffles again, and tears start to fall down her cheeks.

The boy reaches out, putting his wet hand on her pant leg. “Do you want to go swimming?” He asks. 

“Don’t you listen!” Rey barks, her voice breaking a little on her own tears, “I just said we could drown!” 

“I won’t let you drown,” he says, “I’m a good swimmer.” 

“No! I don’t even know you,” she says, kicking her leg away. 

He sinks back into the water, low enough that only his wet, dark eyes peek out. His hair sways with the water around him, a little like the seaweed she likes to smash her fingers into in the tide pools. 

“I’m sorry,” Rey says, “that was mean.” 

He rises up again, slow. “If you knew me, would you swim with me?” He asks. 

“I guess,” Rey says. 

“Ben,” he says, sticking his hand out and in her face. 

Rey bats it away. “I’m Rey.” 

“Rey. Pretty,” Ben smiles softly. “Okay, now come with me,” he says. 

“I don’t have my swimsuit,” Rey says, “it’s already packed.” 

“So?” 

“I can’t go without it,” she says. 

He frowns a little, then nods his head. “Then we’ll go get it.” 

“You really don’t listen! I said it was packed.” 

“Do you know where it is?” Ben asks. 

“Duh.” 

“Well then go get it. I’ll wait.” 

Rey huffs and rolls her eyes. She’s just about to say something when she hears her dad calling from down the shore. 

“Who’s that?” Ben asks, raising up and looking past Rey. 

“That’s my dad. He’s gonna be mad at me if he finds me out here!” She scrambles to her knees, reaching for the next flat rock she can climb on. 

“Wait, Rey! Are you going to come back?” Ben asks, splashing behind her. 

“I… I don’t know,” Rey says, lifting herself onto the next rock. “I’ve got to go home,” she says. 

Ben says something else, but it’s lost under the crash of the waves. Her dad comes running onto the beach, shouting and cursing as Rey makes her way to the shallower water. When she looks back out to the water there’s no trace of Ben anywhere. 


	2. The Island of Ach-to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, uhm, wow. I'd just like to say thank you to each and every one of you who left a kudo and/or a comment. I had a bit of a rough start with this fic back when I first posted it but now I'm honestly a little floored. I've never had this kind of ratio of hits to kudos with a popular ship and it's a really thrilling experience. So, thank you! :)

_ Present _

The island of Ach-to is three hours off the mainland and only reachable by ferry three days of the week. The fog that shrouds the island only starts to clear as the sun creeps past the horizon, giving shape to the sharp hills and crags that face the shore. It’s green and grey, and much larger than Rey had remembered. As a child, the island seemed smaller. Now, though, the blackened cliff faces hang in front of her like the jowls of weary old men. The chill of the air sinks deep into her guts, and for the first time since making her arrangements, she wonders if she should’ve even bothered coming home. 

It’s been six months since her father died. She couldn’t afford the mortgage on the house or the rent on the antique store by herself, especially not with the limited knowledge she’d had on how to actually run a business. She could refurbish wardrobes, make tarnished silver gleam like new, smooth the dents out of old tin toys, hell, she could even make music boxes sing after decades of silence, but the math involved in the finances was beyond her. She could have tried to learn, but the shop wasn’t where she wanted to be. Jakku County wasn’t where she wanted to be. It was a dusty hellscape where the moisture and kindness had been sucked out of every living thing until only bones and cracked earth were left. There was no life in Jakku, only the echoes of it. It was no place to make a future. 

The ferry docks and Rey sets foot on the island for the first time in fourteen years. She pays little attention to the people walking around her, making their way to few cars parked at the far end of the dock. Instead, she focuses on her breathing. She’d been expecting something different, some kind of recognition in the salty air that would make her feel at ease but there’s nothing. It’s the same briny air of the mainland and the same call of the same seabirds ringing in her ears. It’s like walking through a dream, in that it’s all familiar but in the wrong sort of way. She swallows the disappointment and makes her way down the road. 

The fog lightens as she makes her way into the town, but it still hovers like a ghost, distorting the shapes of the buildings and people milling about just enough to keep her on alert. It’s quiet. No one makes eye contact as they pass. Rey pulls her cardigan tighter around her body, quickening her pace and the slap of her thin shoes against the pavement. 

Maz’s at Takodona is a pub fifteen minutes from the harbor. It looks the same as it did in the pictures from the website, though with fewer flowers in the small trenches in the front of the building. The door is unlocked, despite there being no light from behind the red and yellow stained glass at the front windows. She pushes the door open a few inches, expecting it to creak but it doesn’t. The only sound is the crooning coming from the radio on top of the bar. Rey takes a few timid steps inside, unwilling to disturb the peace of the place more than she has to. The air feels different here. It’s not nearly as humid and there’s a bite to it, but it’s not bad. It smells like lemon scented wood polish and bacon grease. 

“Hello?” Rey calls out. There’s no sound from the depths of the pub, so she moves further inside, letting the door shut with a soft click behind her. 

“Hello? Is anyone here?” Her voice doesn’t carry like she’d expected it would. The dark wood paneling muffles the sound of her footfalls as she moves through the empty dining room. 

Rey creeps toward the kitchen, jumping and nearly screaming when she bumps into a small woman who barely comes up to her waist. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she starts to say. 

The woman waves her off,  balancing a tray of pastries with one hand. “Not the first time it’s happened and certainly won’t be the last,” she says, “are you Rey?” 

“I - yes, that’s me. You’re Maz?”  

The woman grunts. 

“Would you be a dear and hit the light, right there by the bar. I would but I have my hands full.” She nods her head to the wall on Rey’s left. Rey paws around until she finds the switch. Warm orange light pours out from a simple chandelier, it’s glass discolored with age but no less charming for it. 

“Thank you, dear,” the old woman says. She waddles behind the bar, stepping up the platform behind it so that she can see over. She sets the pastries in a glass display Rey hadn’t noticed before, each on their own wax doily. “Bear claw?” She asks, holding one out to Rey. 

“Oh. Uh, I don’t have cash on me.” 

Maz shakes her head, stuffing one of the pastries into Rey’s hand. “I didn’t ask you for money. I asked if you wanted one. I eat at least three of these before anyone else does.” 

Well, Rey doesn’t have to be told twice. She rips off a piece and sticks it in her mouth. It’s still warm and soft. 

“So, about your loft,” Maz starts, dusting her wrinkled hands on the orange apron around her waist.

“Oh no,” Rey mummers, mouth full. 

“Nothing to worry about, child. It’s ready when you are. But I had a waitress quit on me recently. Short notice. If you’re willing to work in the evenings you have a job. I’ll negotiate the rent with you if you’re willing,” Maz says, adjusting the coke bottle glasses on her face. 

“Oh. Uh, yes. I’ll do it.” Rey says. She had planned on scraping out a living with the money she had left from selling everything in the store, but having a job so soon certainly wouldn’t hurt. 

“Good. Uniform is whatever you feel like wearing, nothing too short, aprons are in the back. I’ll have you train with Rose. Lovely girl. You’ll like her,” Maz says, disappearing behind the bar before re-emerging from the side. “Come,” Maz says, “I’ll show you to your room.” 

Together they ascent the stairs near the service entrance to a solid door Maz assures Rey stays locked during business hours. She opens the door and leads Rey down a hallway. “Second door on the left is the bathroom. My room is the first on the right,” she says, stopping in front of the last door on the right, “and this one is yours.” 

She unlocks the door, slipping the silver key into Rey’s hand before walking in herself. Rey follows close behind. She hadn’t been expecting much, but she’s still surprised by how sparse the room is. There’s a bed in the middle of the right wall, a dresser and mirror, and a few decorations on the walls, but other than that there’s nothing to it. The walls and curtains covering the window opposite the door are the same shade of off-white, probably from age. The carpet is clean though, as is everything else. At least it’s been well kept. 

“It’s yours to decorate how you’d like, just don’t drill too many holes in my walls,” Maz says. “You are bringing more things up, right?” 

Rey wanders to the bed, trailing her fingers over the thin dove grey sheet. She nods, “I figured I’d make sure I had a place before I had my things shipped. Should only take a week. Just clothes and books, mostly.” 

A silver picture frame catches Rey’s eye and she moves around the bed to get a better look. The photo is of a marginally younger looking Maz, sitting on the shoulders of a very large man with a beard down past his stomach, a blue-eyed man with orange waders three sizes too big for him,  and a small woman giving a brazen one-finger salute to the cameraman. 

“From a simpler time,” Maz says, coming up to Rey’s side, “back when it was possible to make a living fishing around here.” 

Rey frowns at her faint reflection in the glass. “There are loads of fishing boats at the docks, though. It doesn’t seem like there’s a shortage of fish.” 

“Mmm. Some got lucky. The rest of us had to find other ways to make ends meet,” Maz says. “I had the pub, Luke had the library, Chewie, like so many others, left eventually.” There’s an air of sadness in Maz’s soft voice. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rey says. 

“That’s life,” Maz says.

Rey nods, unsure of how she’s supposed to respond to that. They’re quiet for a long enough time that Rey starts to feel awkward. She blurts the first thing she can think of: “so what is there to do on this island anyway? For fun, I mean.” 

Maz’s chuckle is soft, like crushed velvet. “I’m afraid you’ve already seen the local hot spot. It’s here and the beach when the weather permits. The water is warm enough for night swimming around this time of year, so you might find people your age out and about after dark. When the ferry runs they’ll take day trips to the mainland. But other than that…” 

Rey sighs, glancing towards the window. “I was afraid you’d say that. Not that your establishment isn’t a good place to hang out, I’d assume, I just -” 

“Rey, don’t apologize. I understand. The island isn’t what it used to be.” 

Again, Rey is left with nothing to say so she just nods her head. Maz pats her on the wrist and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

Rey drops the canvas bag she’d filled with the basics at the foot of the bed and flops back onto the bed. For the second time today she wonders if she’s made a mistake. 

\----

If Rey had known what being a waitress truly entailed, she might’ve turned Maz down. It’s barely seven and the pub is already full with more people trickling in every half hour or so. It’s loud everywhere except the freezer and she’s pretty sure Rose might actually try to strangle her if she decides to hide in there again. As it is, she’s been elbowed in the ribs no less than six times for forgetting to smile at the customers. And there was that matter of dropping and breaking two full glasses of beer, one of which managed to get all over Rose before it tumbled to the floor. As far as first days go, Rey’s pretty sure this is the worst one she’s capable of. She’s not going to say that out loud, though. She’s not stupid enough to tempt fate like that.

Rose takes her out behind the building, handing her a courtesy cup of coffee when their break finally arrives. It’s only fifteen minutes, and three of those are spent picking at the plastic rim of her cup and staring at the grass beneath her feet. 

“You’ve never been a waitress before, have you?” Rose asks after draining her coffee. 

“It’s painfully obvious, I know,” Rey says. 

“You’ll get there,” Rose says, “no one’s perfect immediately.” 

Rey sighs, digging the toe of her shoe into the dirt. “I’m just not used to being around so many people. They’re everywhere and they’re loud and it feels like I’m going to bump into someone every time I turn around.” 

“Well, it is pretty crowded tonight.” 

“Why? It’s Tuesday. Shouldn’t they all be at home sleeping.” 

Rose laughs, her round cheeks made even rounder with her amusement. “Where did you say you were from exactly?” 

“Jakku County, Arizona.” 

“And you didn’t happen to live in an… assisted living community while you were there did you?” Rose barely restrains a laugh while she speaks. 

“Hey!” 

Rose just laughs harder. “The only people I know who got to bed at seven were my grandparents. And they were ninety when they died.” 

Rey rolls her eyes but smiles. “It’s a fishing community. Don’t you have to get up earlier than god to catch fish? They could be in bed by now and we could be enjoying our night without five hundred people asking for more fried cheese.” 

Rose shakes her head, and the soft curls that have escaped her ponytail sway across her ears as she does. “Just wait until Sunday. Usually, the crowds are lighter because people take the ferry to the mainland. It’ll be easier by then.” 

“I certainly hope so,” Rey says. 

“You’ll get the hang of it. And if you don’t there are always other jobs on the island.” 

Rey grunts, taking a sip of her coffee. It’s still a little too hot and definitely burnt but she’s not going to complain about it. It’s wet and she’s thirsty and it gets the job done. Somewhere in the distance, and owl calls out in the night. 

“Hey,” Rose says, bumping her shoulder against Rey’s, “this weekend we’re having a bonfire on the east beach. It’s me, my boyfriend, his best friend, a couple of other people. Nothing huge but you’re welcome to join us if you want.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah, why not? Don’t feel obligated if you don’t want to, but I figured with you being new and all you might like to.” 

“You’re sure? Like, really sure? I haven’t made the best impression,” Rey says. 

“You’ll be glad to know our beer is in cans, not glasses, so there’s no break risk. But if you’re really worried about it I’ll impose a five-foot Rey-free zone around the fire,” Rose says, a mock-serious expression on her face. 

“Yeah, okay,” Rey says with a shrug. She smiles, her own excitement bleeding through the nonchalance she’s aiming for. She’s not used to being invited to things. Back home she was a bit of a shut-in. Though, maybe that’s what happens when you live in a place where the only thing to do is wait for the air to get cool enough to sleep through the night. 

“Awesome,” Rose says, “we better get back though, our break’s pretty much over.” 

“Oh, joy.” 

“The only way from here is up,” Rose says, standing and dusting off her pants. Rey follows suit and the two walk back into the pub, the shouts from the kitchen staff already breaking what little peace Rey had found for herself outside. 

They walk back into the dining room and Rose stops in the threshold. “Or, maybe not,” she mutters under her breath. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

Rose exhales, straightening her ponytail. “Oh, nothing. Just,” she tips her head to the left and Rey follows her eyes. Of course, she has no idea what she’s supposed to be looking at, and she says as much. “Ginger guy, looks like a weasel,” Rose clarifies. 

Rey sees him then, sitting at a table near the window, all by himself. His hair is slicked back within an inch of its life and he’s glaring into the distance like the universe has offended him personally. “That guy? Who looks like he’s been sitting on his own balls for the past twenty years?” Rey asks, pointing.

Rose smacks Rey’s hand out of the air. “Don’t point at the customers. But yeah, that guy.” 

“What’s wrong with him?” Rey asks, rubbing the back of her hand. 

“He’s just a dick. His uncle owns half the town so he thinks he’s hot shit. Just don’t let him get to you and we’ll be fine,” Rose says. 

Rey follows a few steps behind as they make their way to the table. “Evening, Hux, what’ll it be?” Rose’s fake cheer is even faker than before they stepped outside. 

Hux looks right past Rose and to Rey, his nostrils flaring and lip curling upward as he looks her up and down. “Who are you?” 

“My name’s Rey. I’m new to the island,” Rey says. She can just barely muster up a smile. 

“I don’t care,” Hux sneers. 

“Then why’d you ask?” 

Rose clears her throat. “Drinks on tap are half-price until nine…” 

“Because you’re not the other one,” he bats his hand through the air like he’s swatting a fly, “whatever her name was.” 

“Jessika,” Rose supplies. 

“Whatever. At least she had the decency to appear presentable. You dress like you should be plucking frogs out of a lily pond.” 

“Excuse me?” Rey’s grip on the little notepad Rose had given her to take orders tightens. 

“And you might get more tips if you bothered to wear a little eyeshadow, just FYI,” Hux continues. 

Rey lets out an indignant little squeak as Rose pushes her bodily towards the kitchen. Rose is strong enough to keep her moving, but she isn’t tall enough to keep Rey from glaring daggers at the stuck-up prick, especially when his lips twist into a satisfied smirk. 

“Calm down,” Rose says, “he does that to everyone.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Rey says, “fucking jackass.” 

“He is. There’s not a whole lot we can do about it, though,” Rose says. 

“Give me five minutes behind the pub and I’ll change his attitude.”

Rose snorts. “I really wish you could.” 

“Throw his ass out, then. I’ll take a break and we’ll see if he’s not got an attitude adjustment next time he stops by.” 

“Like I said, I wish. His uncle owns half the town, remember? That half includes the rent here. Last time Maz pissed him off the rent went up.” 

Rey nearly growls, her grip on her notepad tightening until the tiny metal spirals bend and dig into her skin. 

“Why don’t you help out at the bar and I’ll take his order. Calm down a little, then you can try helping the next table that comes in, okay?” 

Rey’s still staring daggers at the shut door, wishing for all she’s worth that she could go back out there and give that ginger asshole a piece of her mind. She’s not used to taking shit from anyone and she definitely doesn’t want to start making it a practice of hers. 

“Rey.” Rose’s tone is sharp, brokering no argument, but it’s not unkind. 

“Alright,” Rey sighs, “I’ll go help with the bar.” 

She walks past Rose and through the door again, Rose calling after her that she needs to remember to smile. 

The rest of the night is uneventful. Rey tries her best not to notice Hux but she can feel his eyes on her. She might be setting drinks down a little too forcefully, but at least she doesn’t break anything else. By the time three in the morning rolls around and the tables are wiped and floors swept, Rey’s swaying on her feet. She makes it up to her room but just barely and falls into sleep without even kicking off her shoes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Ben yet but he'll show up soon. I promise. :) 
> 
> If you liked this chapter, please leave a kudo and/or a comment. They make me very happy and feed my artist's soul. As always, [my tumblr](http://rosemoonweaver.tumblr.com/) is also open for questions, comments, and general flailing.


	3. The Voice of the Sea

There’s a little alcove on the east beach, tucked around a massive wall of black rock. It’s not too far of a walk from what little civilization there is on the island, but still far enough that noise from the harbor does not carry. This is where Rose and her friends choose to have their party. 

The sun has already begun to set by the time Rey and Rose make their way to the alcove, painting the sky in soft lavender and orange. A few young people splash each other in the surf, while another group piles dry driftwood and wooden pallets into a pit in the sand. There’s a charcoal grill set up next to one of three coolers that form a hap-hazard semi-circle around the fire pit. Someone’s phone is playing pop music just loud enough to hear but not loud enough to be distracting. There’s a decent sized rock, flat enough for sitting, near enough to one of the coolers that Rey snags it for her own when Rose sets a six-pack of beer into the ice. 

“I’ll be right back. Help yourself to the beer,” Rose says. She makes her way down to the beach where some of the group is messing around, throwing each other into the water. Rey watches as Rose waits at the edge of the water, shouting something Rey can’t hope to make out. One of the men charges out of the water and Rose turns to run but isn’t fast enough. He catches her halfway up the beach, arms wrapped around her middle as he picks her up off her feet. 

“Finn!” Rose shrieks. She giggles as he holds her close. “You’re dripping,” she protests. 

Finn leans in close, whisperings something in her ear that makes her snort with laughter before setting her back down on the sand. Her t-shirt is damp around the middle. Rose grabs Finn by the hand and pulls him back up the beach. She’s still smiling wide when they reach Rey and her rock. 

“Finn, this is Rey,” Rose says, “Rey, my boyfriend, Finn.” 

Finn’s smile is effervescent. Even in the low light he just seems to glow with something warm and bright and friendly and Rey can’t help but relax a little. She’d been nervous about being around a group of strangers and hoped that Rose wouldn’t leave her to pay more attention to her boyfriend. It’s still a worry she has, but Finn seems nice enough that it worries her a little less. 

Finn sits down on the rock next to Rey. He’s only wearing light blue swim trunks and he’s still dripping but he’s at least mindful of Rey’s space. Rose sits down on the other side as Finn offers his hand to shake. 

“Rose tells me you’re new to the island,” he says. He’s got a strong grip but at least he doesn’t crush her hand when he shakes it. 

“Relatively speaking,” Rey says, “I was born here but we moved when I was little.” 

“Oh, so you came back for family,” Finn says. 

“Actually -” Rey stops herself. Truthfully, she hadn’t really thought about why she even wanted to come back to Ach-to. She just knew that there was nothing for her in Jakku but the same could be said for Ach-to. She’s got one dead parent in Arizona, one here. Or, her grave is here. There’s no body in the ground. There was just something in here that needed to get out of the desert, something that craved the familiar shore of her childhood. But of course, she’s not about to unload all that on to a stranger. “Family friend,” she says instead. 

Finn nods. “So you’re settling in okay?” 

“So far.” 

They make small talk for a little while, with Rose interjecting every once in a while. Finn’s from the mainland. He moved to the island after he got serious with Rose, partly to help her and her sister keep their boat repair shop and mostly to be closer to her. He asks her about herself, what she used to do in Jakku, and ribs her just a little when she jumps when the bonfire is finally lit just after sundown. 

“This is nothing,” Finn says, “you should see what they do for midsummer.” 

“Midsummer?” Rey asks. 

“Oh, yeah! It’s a blast,” Finn says. “The whole island comes out for it. We build a giant bonfire on the beach, stay up until dawn dancing and eating and drinking. It doesn’t sound like much but it’s a lot of fun. It’s some kind of festival.” 

“It’s for the faeries,” Rose says. 

“For the what?” 

“The faeries. They’re pretty active around this time of year. Local legends say that if you’re kind to them and accommodating they’ll be less mischievous for the rest of the year. Some folks even say they might assist the fishermen if they feel welcome enough.” 

“Well they better start owning up to their end of the bargain,” a different man’s voice cuts into their conversation. 

Rey looks up to find a new man walking towards the three of them, dark hair shining like oil in the firelight. A shorter woman with tawny blonde hair follows close behind, several tubs of pasta salad in her arms. A corgi trots at an easy pace behind both of them.

“Took you long enough, Poe,” Finn says, “I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.” 

Poe scoffs. “Nah. We just had to make sure we had enough to feed all of you. Still not sure we got enough. You know how Connix likes to eat,” he says. 

The blonde woman snorts. “Remind me again who’s held the hot dog eating contest champion title for the past five years running?” 

“Hey! Competitive eating is a sport,” Poe says. 

The blonde, probably Connix, rolls her eyes. 

Poe sets the grocery bags down by the grill, smiling and bear hugging a few of the other party goers. He’s like a magnet, drawing people in with his easy smile and swagger. He’s obviously a popular guy and Rey can sort of see why. He’s not bad looking, and there’s something charming about him, even from a distance. He’s got a presence that demands attention. 

Connix, on the other hand, sets the pasta salad into a cooler and grabs a beer, dragging one of the empty folding chairs to face Finn, Rose, and Rey. The corgi jumps right into her lap as she sits down. She shakes her head and scratches the dog behind the ears. 

“So I take it you and Poe are back together,” Rose says. 

Connix shrugs. “Would appear so, wouldn’t it?” 

Rey notes the dark red mark peeking out from the edge of Connix’s tank top. 

Poe goes back then, gesturing for Connix to get out of the chair. With some eye rolling and a brief argument through glare alone, Connix shoos the dog off and gets up. Poe sits down and then promptly pulls her back on his lap, where she stays, content, for quite a while. 

The night is much easier than Rey had expected. There is a little awkwardness, as she’s out of the loop on most of the island gossip. Someone named Jessika moved away to get married, surprising them all. Someone called Snap’s rent has gone up, apparently after angering one of the nephews of the man who seems to own the whole damn island. Snoke is his name, apparently, but Rey’s compatriots say little else about him, save for a few more colorful swears. 

There are other things Rey gleans from the conversations as well. The dog is apparently named BeeBee and he loves attention. She finds this out when she offers him a charred bit of hot dog and winds up with the dog resting at her feet from the rest of the evening. Poe is a sheriff’s deputy, along with Connix, and the two of them seem to have a complicated romantic history. Poe also likes to talk about his experience with amateur boat racing and windsurfing, which he still does from time to time. He seems to take pleasure in his stories of how badly he’s injured himself during wipeouts. Rose shoots Rey a knowing look every time he begins with “and this one time -” and Rey has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. 

It’s the most enjoyable time Rey’s ever had with a group larger than three people. She could easily get used to it. 

Sometime after the fire starts to settle down to a low simmer and other people start heading home that Rey starts to hear… well, she’s not sure. It starts out small, like the tinkling of a bell. At first, she assumes it’s BeeBee’s ID tags, but he hasn’t moved from where he’s sleeping at her feet. It gets louder, slowly but surely, and she can begin to make out the sound a little more. It’s soft and mournful; airy and sweet. It’s like an instrument she can’t place, something that rings like bells and bellows like an organ; something that floats like a flute and whines like a violin. It echoes inside her head, far away and close all at once. It sends a chill straight down her spine. 

“Earth to Rey,” Finn says, bumping her with his shoulder, “you alright?” 

Rey blinks, refocusing. The music is still there, clear as day. “What is that?” She asks. 

“What’s what?” Finn asks. 

“Don’t you hear it? That music?” 

Finn frowns. “No, I don’t hear anything.” 

“How can you not? It’s so loud!” 

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Poe asks. 

Rey rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “Just two beers. I’m not drunk.” 

“Lightweight,” Connix says with a giggle. She’s had plenty more than two beers and it definitely shows. 

“I’m not even buzzed,” Rey says, her voice pitching with irritation.

“You getting enough sleep?” Poe asks. “Poor sleeping habits can really fuck with you.” 

Rey opens her mouth to argue but just like that, the noise stops. She huffs. “Maybe.” 

“Could be stress. Moving to a new place where you don’t really know anyone can be pretty stressful,” Finn says. 

“Or it could be people further down the beach,” Rose offers, “we probably aren’t the only ones out here.” 

Rey glances out over towards the rest of the beach. She can’t see or hear anything else. No matter what it was, it’s over now. “I guess. I don’t hear it now. Maybe it was just me.” 

\----

Ocean waves roar as they rush towards the shore, breaking over wet sand. Somewhere overhead a gull cries out. The water is murky and molted with shimmering blotches like tarnished silver. It stretches out forever where it meets the horizon, but it’s unclear if it ever really ends or if it just lightens, wrapping around the earth in the thick grey cover above her. Rey finds herself on the edge of the water, just close enough that the seafoam tickles against her toes. It’s not cold, though it should be.

There’s a sound coming from the distance, somewhere far off echoing off the rocks. It’s quiet, at first, like the tinkling of bells. It builds slowly, from bells to the sound of wind chimes until the wind picks up and rips at the melody apart. The discord echoes louder, hollow and violent like a storm siren. Rey covers her ears, turning towards the beach as the wind tosses sand around her. It beats into her skin, prickling like needles. She runs up the beach and away from the storm, but she trips, landing face-first in the sand. 

A bang next to her ear startles her and she rolls away, heedless to the sand that clings to every part of her. There’s another bang, like furniture hitting a wall, but there’s no source for the sound. She scrambles to her knees, her breath catching in her throat. A scream rings out, a plea, then another bang. The sand offers no purchase, instead, it swallows her wrists and ankles, then her elbows. She flounders, desperate to pull herself out of the earth as it drags her under. 

Rey jolts upward, dizzy and disoriented. She sucks in deep breaths, willing her eyes to focus. She’s in her room again. The curtains are still closed but a sliver of sunlight falls on the floor from underneath. The bed underneath her legs is solid, warm, real. 

So it was just a dream then. A weird, terrifying dream. 

It’s still early morning by the time Rey makes it into town. It’s overcast, threatening rain. The air is already heavy with humidity, the moisture clinging to her body like sweat and curling stray hairs at the back of her neck. She’s not sure if she’s grateful for having packed only long sleeve shirts. They do well enough to keep the chill off her arms like they did with the sun in the desert, but this kind of sticky atmosphere makes her feel trapped, claustrophobic in her own skin. Maybe it will get better if it rains. 

Little shops line the main street and while most of them seem to be open, there’s no sign of activity through the windows. Rey makes note of where the thrift shop and laundromat are (left side of the road, a block away from Maz’s) and ignores most everything else. The only thing she really needs to find is the general store, which she’s sure the island has to have, just for emergencies. It’s got to be around here somewhere… 

She’s about three blocks past a small post office when she realizes she’s lost. She’s gotten herself turned around somehow and managed to walk off the main drag and no amount of backtracking seems to bring her back to the main road. Now she’s in an alleyway, a thin wood to the left of her and the backsides of businesses to her right. If she squints she can see houses through the woods, perhaps only a few miles off. She really doesn’t want to bother with getting lost in the residential area, so she pushes on, following the cobblestone alley. It’s an island, after all. Worse comes to worst she’ll just follow the beach back to the harbor and then back to Maz’s. 

At least, that’s what Rey tells herself. When the alley finally ends she finds herself face to face to not with a wall or building, but with open land. It’s a little too hilly to be called a meadow, but it’s all tall grass and yellow flowers as far as she can see.  

“Well that’s just great,” she scoffs to herself. Theoretically, she could trek through the hills and find something on the other side, but she’s acutely aware of the fact that she really doesn’t know how big the island actually is and she’s not prepared to get herself turned around in the middle of nowhere. She huffs, shakes her head, and rounds the last building. At least she’ll have something new to look at on this backtrack. 

These buildings look much older here. They’re the same grey stone as some of the others, but these are in obvious disrepair. Moss and vines grow in the cracks between the stones and weeds have overtaken the trenches where the gutters spill out. The windows are brown with dust and grime. Each door bears a stark red and white “For Lease” sign, with nothing left of the contact information but the yellowed ghosts of phone numbers. Everything is much quieter over here, which is a little strange as the island isn’t very lively, to begin with. But here, she can’t even hear the seabirds. Or any creature that’s made it’s home in the meadow. It’s just silence as if the earth itself is holding its breath. 

Rey nearly screams when she sees the man standing in the road. Well, not the road, the sidewalk, but it startles her just the same. He’s older if the white beard is anything to go by. He’s got a cup of something hot in one hand, a newspaper in the other. He’s staring out at the sky, pretending not to notice her, but Rey can tell by the way his gaze shifts oh so slightly that he’s waiting for her to do something. 

Well, she is lost after all. “Excuse me,” she calls out, starting towards the older man. 

He shifts his gaze to her fully now, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Can you tell me how to get back to the main road? I got turned around and,” she flaps her hands in the direction of the field, “there’s no more road.” 

He turns now, facing her fully. What looked like an old coat from a distance is very clearly a bathrobe that’s seen better days. He does seem to be dressed underneath it, so that’s a relief. Either that or he’s the kind of man to wear nice shoes and a bathrobe but nothing else. Maybe it’s less of a relief than she first thought. 

His brows pinch as he looks at her. “You’re not from around here,” he says. 

“No,” she says, “that’s why I’m lost.” 

“Then why are you here?” His voice is rough, scratchy, like an old record that’s been played too many times. 

“What? I don’t -” 

“Ach-to is a dead island. The only people left here are the ones who can’t leave,” he says. “So why are you here?” 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Rey says, “but I was born here. It’s my home.” 

The old man shakes his head. “Of all the places you could’ve picked - “ he turns away, walking back towards the door of the large stone building he’d apparently come from. 

“Wait! I need directions!” Rey calls after him. 

The man stops, tipping his head towards the road. “Follow this one until you come to a four-way stop. Take a right, then a left. Walk far enough that way on and you’ll make it to the harbor.” 

“Thank you,” she says. 

A door slam is all she gets in response. 

“Rude,” she mutters to herself. 

\---

Rey doesn’t wind up finding the general store. She’s sure it’s somewhere - no one can afford to wait three days a week for things like emergency aspirin or tampons, or even late night snacks, but she just hasn’t found it yet. She’ll have to ask Maz where it is tomorrow. And maybe see if she has a map. 

Right now, though, Rey is enjoying the solitude of the beach. It’s dark out, just after midnight, with only the stars to keep her company. She doesn’t mind it though. Even out in the desert, it was hard to actually see the night sky sometimes. Too much light pollution. Out here, on the island, there isn’t anything that hides the stars or the milky swirls of distant light that make up the rest of the galaxy, from view. It’s nice. And it’s quiet. Not like back at Tokadona, where it was all noise and rushing around, struggling to remember which sides went with which meals and what beer was the cheapest. Here it’s just the quiet lapping of waves on the shore. 

Rey walks until she can’t see the docks, finding a quiet spot where she can pretend, if only for a moment, that she’s the only person in the world. She walks to the edge of the water, letting her toes sink into the wet sand and the water soak into the ends of her pant legs. It seems like a shame that she’s been on the island for nearly a week and she hasn’t even gone swimming yet. She hadn’t even thought to bring one with her when she initially packed. She could just… do it now. The water is warm enough that she wouldn’t freeze to death. And no one’s around… 

Rey takes one more cursory glance around the beach before stripping her clothes off. She tucks them behind a smooth rock far enough from the shore that she doesn’t have to worry about them getting drenched before running right into the surf. 

It’s exhilarating. The water is much colder the deeper it gets and by the time she can no longer feel the sand beneath her feet she’s definitely feeling a chill. This will have to be a short swim but it’s worth it. Much more so than when she was a child and would break into her neighbor’s backyard to climb their tree and steal tomatoes out of their garden. She tips her head back, letting the water wash over her face as it rolls in and out. She lets herself lay back, floating as the waves pull her further from the beach. She should probably be more mindful of it, but she couldn’t care less. She’s at ease in a way that she hasn’t been in a long time. 

That’s when a soft breeze starts to blow across her body, prickling all the exposed parts to gooseflesh. She gasps, startling enough to cause herself to sink and swallow water. She shakes herself, wiping the water from her eyes as she rights herself. She’s further out than she anticipated, the shore still in view but the dark is enough to make her stomach drop just a little. She steals herself, and pushes forward, unwilling to let the sudden spike of fear overtake her. 

She stands when her feet can finally touch the sand, breathing a sigh of relief. She walks the rest of the way, shivering just a little as the air hits her skin. She’s only ankle-deep in the water when she noticed the dark shape moving on the beach. It takes a moment for her to register that it’s a man, a man headed right for her. She looks towards the beach, her clothes tucked behind a rock, and then back out to the ocean. With no good options, she does the only thing that’s certain to help; she freezes. 

It’s not until she’s being picked up that she starts to scream and kick. Her arms are pinned to her sides, so all she can do is squirm and kick at his shins. 

“Let me go!” She yells. 

“Stop it! I’m not going to hurt you!” The stranger nearly growls. 

“Fuck you!” 

It’s too dark for her to make out much about the man, but the one thing she does know is that he’s massive enough to block her view of the beach behind them. He picks her up like she weighs nothing, trudging back into the water.  She screams, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“Be quiet! Hux is coming.” 

She screams louder. She may not like the bastard but she sincerely hopes he’s not the kind of man who would watch a woman get accosted and do nothing about it. 

She’s hefted higher until she’s looking down at her abductor, catching just the barest glimmer of moonlight in his dark eyes. Her toes are even with his stomach now, and she reels back to give him as hard of a kick as she can. He stumbles forward, grunting as he presses his fingers deeper into her ribcage. 

“Stop that!” He hisses. 

Rey reels back to kick again when she finds herself flying backward through the air, flailing as she hits the water. She jolts back up, sputtering and coughing. She has to tread water now, glaring at the madman who’s up to his knees in the water. 

“What the hell is wrong with you!” She’s pissed. She should probably be afraid, but more than anything she wants to kick this moron’s ass. 

“Shhh.” 

“Excuse me!” 

“Be quiet. Stop fighting and just listen to me for one minute, would you?” He’s easier to see now that they’re not so close, but it’s still too dark to make out most of his face. She can just make out the way his hair curls outward, not quite touching his shoulders at it’s longest point. 

“No.” 

“I don’t know why they haven’t told you but you can’t come up here. It’s too dangerous.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“If Hux finds you…” his voice trails off. “Stay here,” he says, backing up towards the beach. 

“Or what? You just want me to drown out here?” 

He sighs like he’s the one being put out here. “You won’t drown. I’m not stupid. I know.” 

“You know what?” 

“I know what you are,” his tone takes a much darker edge, but whatever he means is completely lost on Rey. “And I’m not going to take your skin.” 

“What the fuck! You absolute psycho!” 

“Just stay put until we leave,” the stranger says. 

“Like hell,” Rey says. Against all better instincts, she swims right for the shore. 

She makes it about halfway before he’s shoving her back. Rey’s not having it this time, and wraps her leg around his, throwing them both off balance until they tumble back into the water. He’s up quicker than she is, though, hauling her by the waist into the waves. She throws her elbow backward, striking him in the face. He lets her go and she runs, as fast as the water and sand will allow, back up the beach. She grabs at her clothes and spirits down the beach, away from the harbor. 

The stranger shouts at her but she doesn’t catch what he says over her own heartbeat. She doesn’t stop until she’s too out of breath to continue, ducking behind a low sand dune to catch her breath. She doesn’t think he was chasing her, but she hopes that even if he was it’s too dark to make out her footprints. She waits for what feels like forever before she even dares to peek out past the sand, but when she finds nothing she allows herself to relax. She only managed to grab her shirt and panties, but it’s better than nothing. At least she doesn’t have to walk back to Takodana nude. 

Now all she has to do is find her way back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Ben appears! Ben uses "hilarious misunderstanding". It's not very effective. 
> 
> If you liked this chapter please comment and/or drop off a kudo! (I promise I'll take good care of it.) I also have a [tumblr](http://rosemoonweaver.tumblr.com/) if you like that sort of thing. And, if you're one of those folks who likes to listen to music while you read, here's the [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/shayrose12/playlist/21gIXA7p12kJSAn8uvVTkp) I listen to while writing. Shuffle works best. :)


	4. Like a Dream Half-Remembered

“Here, you look like you need this,” Maz says, setting a mug of coffee and a chocolate muffin down in front of Rey. 

Rey smiles and accepts the coffee. It’s just a hint on the sweet side but Maz isn’t going to charge her for it so she doesn’t complain. She’s been on the island for three weeks now and it’s been the worst sleep of her life. It’s been the same dream every night, the one where she’s on the beach as the wind picks up. It shouldn’t be as frightening as it is, it’s just wind, but she wakes up every morning with her heart in her throat and a thin coating of sweat on her brow. 

“You look troubled,” Maz says, sitting down a across from her. They have a routine now. Rey comes down after eight, dressed and ready for the day and Maz gives her something to eat while they sit together. They don’t usually talk - most of the time Maz reads while Rey tries to wake up, but sometimes they do. It’s nice. Companionable. Nothing like the stilted and awkward mornings Rey would have with her father when he was home. 

Rey sighs, pushing her hair out of her face. “Didn’t sleep well,” she says. 

“Nightmares?” 

Rey frowns, ripping the top off the muffin before taking a bite. “Not really.” She chews and swallows before saying more. “They’re not scary just… distressing? But nothing happens.” 

Maz nods. “The same every night?” 

Rey nods, her mouth full again. 

“You should pay attention to them, then. Dreams have a way of bringing our attention to things we might otherwise ignore. There’s wisdom in the unconscious.” 

Rey considers this. It’s possible her mind is trying to work something out but what? She’s never been afraid of  _ sand  _ of all things, but it swallows her everytime she closes her eyes. Maybe she’s just anxious about move halfway across the world. Maybe it’s supposed to be symbolic. 

They fall into a comfortable silence for the rest of the morning. 

\---

If there’s one thing about Ach-to that annoys Rey, it’s that everyone seems allergic to eye contact. Rose, Finn, and Poe aren’t bad about it, but when she’s alone it’s a very different story. No one makes casual eye contact on the streets and when they do they look away too quick. Even the people who come into the pub won’t look at her for more than a passing glance. She hadn’t guessed they’d be this hostile to outsiders, but apparently, they are. The older women of the island are especially bad. She can feel their eyes on her as she walks past, only to watch them avert their gaze the second Rey looks up. It’s starting to drive her insane. She’s going to have to ask Finn how long it took for the Islanders to accept him as one of their own. 

She can feel eyes on her as she makes her way up down an unfamiliar street, following the directions Maz had written on a sticky note. Maz had needed to give something to a friend of hers who, in her words, “wouldn’t know decent human interaction if it bit him in the ass” and Rey had offered to take care of it for her. Well… Rey had taken the hint. Rey herself isn’t very good at spending time with other people either, and if it weren’t for the errands Maz requests she run she’d probably just stay in the loft until it was time for work. She doesn’t mind it so much, though. Getting out among the living, that’s not a bad idea. Except of course when they treat her like she’s invisible. 

But she knows she feels eyes on her, right behind her, searing the flesh between her shoulder blades. She turns around, finally having had enough of it to finally tell someone off. When she does though, it’s as if all the anger and irritation falls right out of her. There, leaning up against the grey stone of an abandoned shop stands a man. He’s clothed in all black, from the shine on his shoes to the collar of his turtleneck, sticking out like a dark stain in the foggy gray town. His gaze is unwavering, pinning her where she stands. He’s handsome, Rey realizes immediately, though she’s tempted to chastise herself for the thought considering he’s standing across the street staring at her like a creep. Staring or no, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s beautiful to look at, even with the dark bruise marring his right eye. His expression is intense but not unkind. His face is as stoic and blank as can be, not a single twitch to any muscle, but there’s something in his eyes that says it all; something that feels like a challenge. Those deep eyes reel her in, and though they’re standing far away from each other, she can’t help but be tempted to cross the street see them up close. 

There’s something else, too. Something she can’t quite articulate; a thought or a realization. It’s like a shadow hanging just barely in her peripheries but when she turns to look at it, it’s gone. It’s there, somewhere, like a dream half-remembered or the missing lyrics to a chorus you thought you knew. She just… doesn’t know what it is. 

The man pushes off the wall now, hands shoved in his dark jeans as he crosses the street. Rey’s heart beats just a little faster as he moves. He’s much stiffer in his movement than she expected. He ought to be more graceful, she thinks, but instead he sort of stomps along like he’s not used to walking like a normal person. 

When he stops he’s still in the street but close enough that if she can smell the dark spice of his cologne. Rey isn’t a short woman by any means but this man dwarfs her and she has to crane her neck just a little to look him in the eyes. Neither of them say anything for a moment, though his eyes do trail down her body in an outright brazen display. Rey clears her throat. 

“Is there a reason you were staring at me?” She asks finally. 

“I -” the man startles, seemingly snapped out of whatever mental reverb he was stuck on. “I wasn’t - I didn’t mean -” His voice is more rumble than words. Rey recognizes it immediately. 

“You! You’re the psycho who tried to drown me!” She takes several steps backward. 

“I didn’t try to drown you,” he says, rolling his eyes. “It was a misunderstanding.” 

“A misunderstanding? On what planet is throwing someone into the ocean and threatening to skin them a misunderstanding?” 

“I never threatened you,” he stands up straighter, his voice taking a harder edge as he speaks. “I thought - it doesn’t matter. If you’d allow me a minute, I was actually hoping to apologize for the… incident.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Rey mutters, almost to herself. 

“No, of course not,” he says, and it’s Rey’s turn to roll her eyes. “I scared you and that was never my intent. I -” he stumbles a little on his words a little, glancing down the street. When Rey follows his eye, she finds nothing. “I thought you might like your clothes back, too.” 

“You kept them?” 

“Yes?” He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, eyes glued to the wall behind her. 

Rey shakes her head. This whole thing is utterly ridiculous. She wants to be mad. She wants to kick this guy in the shins and run for it, but he’s so… awkward about the whole thing. Somewhere deep down, she feels it probably was a misunderstanding, but how it would even happen is mystifying. 

“That’s weird,” she says. “Who even - why?” 

“I was hoping to return them to you. It seemed like the right thing to do,” he says. 

“You didn’t do anything weird with them, did you?” She glares at him, hoping she hasn’t lost the ability to at least look intimidating. 

“No?” 

Rey groans. “Just throw them out then.” 

His brow furrows at that. “You don’t want them back?” 

“Why would I? And unless you have them right now I’m not getting them anyway. There’s no way I’m going anywhere with you.” 

“Why not?” 

“Why not? Seriously? Do we need to go over the details of the  _ incident  _ again?” She looks down the street again, anxious to get back on her path and leave this weirdo behind. 

“I already told you I wasn’t going to hurt you.” 

“Says every serial killer, I’m sure.” 

“I’m not a liar.” He says it with such force and conviction that it snaps Rey’s attention right back to him. He’s back to staring at her now, his dark eyes burning with an intensity Rey’s seldom seen. “And I’m not a serial killer,” he says, much softer. 

Rey swallows, shaking her head lightly to break the spell his gaze has cast. “Right,” she says, “well. I’ve got errands to run. Don’t follow me or I’ll have the sheriff's deputy arrest you.” She turns away from him, intent on continuing on her way. 

“Deputy? Dameron?” The man scoffs. “If he does his job like he pilots boats I’ll be fine.” 

“Fine. Then if you follow me I’ll break your pretty face worse than I already have,” she snarls. 

His eyes go wide for just a moment before he regains composure, eyes sweeping up and down her frame again. “I’m not your enemy, Rey,” he says. 

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. Don’t follow me.” 

She stomps off, her veins pumping with anxiety and irritation. She refuses to glance back, just on the off chance that he’s still watching and takes it as an invitation or something. She’s not going to give him the pleasure of knowing that she’s a little freaked out by him, notwithstanding her anger. He might have almost a foot on her and weigh a lot more, but she got away once and she can do it again. She’s always been able to look out for herself, physically, and often mentally, too. She can handle some random jerk, even if he throws her off in all kinds of unsettling ways. 

Rey turns a corner, like the instructions Maz gave her said to do, and finds herself walking towards the open field once again. The note says to go to the third door for the the end of the road, right side. The same door she’d seen the rude old man come out of days before. 

“Great,” Rey mutters, to herself, “he better not be a jerk this time.” She climbs the steps and knocks on the door, balancing the stack of Tupperware on one arm. No one responds. She knocks again, and still there’s nothing. 

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a soft brush against her ankle. Her first instinct is to kick or stomp, but when she’s greeted with a soft  _ mrrrp _ she’s glad she didn’t. Looking up at her from the step his a large, fluffy cat, a blue Persian. It’s fur around the eyes and whiskers is a lighter grey, probably from age, but it’s as bright-eyed and friendly as a kitten. 

“Hello,” she says. The cat meows in response. 

“Where did you come from?” 

The cat prances up the steps, weaving through her legs and purring loudly. Rey giggles, in spite of herself. 

“Does your owner live here? Or are you a stray?” She asks. 

In response, the cat pushes its body against the front door, causing it to give way just enough for it to squeeze inside. Rey pushes the door open further, following the cat inside. 

Immediately, Rey realizes why the door would be open in the first place. A large oak counter sits ten feet from the door, but around it there’s wide open space and rows upon rows of bookshelves, outdated posters for summer reading programs, and laminated neon sheets marking different reading sections. It’s a library. An infrequently used library by the looks of it. There’s a thin layer of dust on the bell on the counter and in plastic tray marked “returns” in black sharpie. The blinds are drawn, through slivers of light filter through and spill out onto the thin carpet floor. The air stale air smells like old paper and burnt coffee. 

Rey frowns. Maz must’ve got the directions wrong. But, the other buildings on the street are vacant and for lease. She sets the Tupperware down on the counter and rings the bell first, hesitant to call out and disturb the silence more than she has to. 

The cat jumps up on the counter, rubbing its cheeks against the Tupperware before jumping down to the lower desk to sit on top of a keyboard. 

Rey rings the bell again, then once more a minute later. She’s just about to give up when there’s shuffling from the left; the religion and spirituality section. 

“Artoo, how many times do I have to tell you the bell is not a toy,” a rough, voice calls out; the same voice that dismissed her so coldly just a few days before. 

Rey barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. It’s really no wonder this grumpy old man doesn’t interact with people all that much. 

The man at least has the decency to look a bit surprised and maybe even bashful when he catches sight of Rey. “Oh,” he says, “how long have you been waiting here?” 

“Not long,” Rey says. She tips her head towards the Tupperware, “I assume this is for you.” 

“If it’s from Maz it is,” he says, walking up behind the counter and lifting the lid off one of the containers. It’s cold pot roast, leftovers from the special the night before. He smiles wide and buoyant, making him look at least ten years younger than the frown does. 

“Well… now that you’ve got your food -” Rey starts. 

“You know, Maz usually sits and at least has tea with me,” the man says. “You’re welcome to stay if you want.” 

Rey looks down at the cold pot roast, then back up at the weary blue eyes that now regard her. He might’ve been a grump before but he seems to want to make up for it now. And she can’t really hold it against him - she’s not exactly the most friendly person on the planet either. 

“Tea would be lovely,” she says. 

“Great!” He snaps the lid back on the container and scoots it on to the desk. “I hope you like oolong… what did you say your name was again?” 

“I didn’t. It’s Rey.” 

“Luke Skywalker,” the old man said, digging and electric kettle out from under the desk and setting it on top of the other containers. He gestures for Rey to follow him, so she does, up a set of stairs and into what must be the loft. Unlike Maz’s, this place is all open space, save for two doors Rey assumes is a bedroom and bathroom. Luke gestures for her to sit at tiny dining table as he flitters about the kitchenette, pouring water into the kettle and microwaving the roast. The cat follows them, jumping up on the counter and rubbing against Luke whenever it gets a chance. Luke rolls his eyes, but indulges the cat when he can. 

“Is he yours?” Rey asks, trying to keep her eyes on her host and not the clutter that makes up the open living room-slash-dining room-slash kitchen. 

“More or less. No one really owns Artoo, though. He does what he wants,” he says, batting the cat away as he pours hot water into mismatched mugs. 

When the microwave beeps, Luke sets two bowls, also mismatched, on the table, one in front of Rey and one for himself. The mugs are also set out, and Luke digs into his lunch without another word. Rey eats, though much slower. She’s not hungry, but it still seems a waste to not eat food when it’s put in front of her. After a while, Luke stops, seemingly remembering that he’s not alone. He squints at Rey over his fork, finally speaking. 

“Why did Maz send you here?” He asks. 

“She said you don’t get out much,” Rey says. 

Luke scoffs. “Yes, but why you? You don’t talk much.” 

Rey shrugs. “I was around.” 

Luke frowns, staring into her like she’s a particularly troublesome tangle of wire and he’s trying to decide where to start teasing it out. “No. She’s got other employees. Or she could come down here herself.” 

“Maybe she thinks I don’t get out much either,” Rey says. 

Luke shakes his head. “So she sends one shut-in to the other.” 

“I’m not a shut-in,” Rey says, “I just haven’t found my niche here yet.” 

“Well, good luck finding it. You’ve already hit all the local hot spots if you’ve been to the docks.” 

Rey frowns, stabbing a carrot a bit too forcefully. 

“Why did you move here, anyway. Your family left. There’s nothing here for you.”

“You don’t know that,” Rey says, a little louder and sharper than she means to, “I was born here. This is my home.” 

“Being born somewhere doesn’t make it a home,” Luke says. 

“Well, where I was before certainly wasn’t home, either.” 

Luke’s looking at her like she’s some sort of puzzle again, chewing slowly. She’s uneasy under his contemplation; not because he makes her uncomfortable, but because there’s something in his eyes, a question he’s not going to ask but definitely wants an answer for. She wants to shake him and tell him to just ask so they can be done with it, but she thinks better of it. 

“We have a word for people like you on this island,” he finally says. 

“What’s that?” 

“Restless.” 

Rey snorts and rolls her eyes, finding a small smile on Luke’s face. She’s not sure if she likes Luke just yet, but she’s not going to completely write him off. He’s a bit blunt for her taste and perhaps not very socially adept, but she supposes she’s both of those things, too. Maybe she can get used to him if he can get used to her. 

The rest of their meal passes is silence, though it’s not as stilted as it was before. She follows him back down into the rest of the library when they finish, arms now full of last week’s Tupperware, though thankfully it’s already been washed. 

“Did you -” Luke starts as they step off the stairs, “well I suppose you wouldn’t,” he says. 

“No, say what you were going to say,” Rey says. 

“I’m supposed to ask if you wanted to check out books. No one ever really does these days, but they might be useful if you spend more time alone.” 

“I don’t exactly have a card,” Rey says. 

Luke swats the air. “Like it matters. No one really bothers with it around here. Besides, I know where to find you if I need to track you down.” There’s a mischievous little twinkle in his eyes that makes Rey wonder just what kind of person Luke might be if he actually spent more time among the rest of the world. Perhaps he’d actually be fun to spend time with. 

“Why not, then,” Rey says with a smile. 

Luke rubs his hands together. “Okay. Did you have anything in mind or can I work my magic?” 

“Your magic?” 

“I’m excellent at finding the right books for the right people.” There’s so much mirth in his eyes and his smile that Rey can’t but smile, too. Yes, if he were like this more often he’d be much more fun. 

Rey shrugs. “Have at it then.” 

Luke disappears into the stacks, starting at the 300s and winding his way around. Rey follows close, watching as he carefully contemplates each of his selections. Thirty minutes later, Rey’s walking out of the library with four new things to read. 

\----

Rey doesn’t notice him at first. She’d made it all the way back to Takadona and into her room before she notices. But of course the minute she flows down on her own bed she’s met with the yowling of a startled kitty cat that doesn’t want to be sat on. 

“Artoo!” Rey hollars at the puffball on her bed, back arched high and claws dug into the comforter. “You’re not supposed to be up here.” 

Artoo meows with as much sass as she’s ever heard from a cat before relaxing his spine and prancing right up to her pillows. 

“You can’t stay here,” she says. 

He doesn’t listen, instead opting to stretch out with his front paws on the bedside table, precariously close to her new stack of books. 

“You really can’t. I don’t have a litter box. Or a cat bed. And I don’t do pets.” 

Artoo yaws, stretching further and knocking her books right to the floor. He curls up on her pillow, completely unconcerned with anything but his own comfort. 

Rey scoffs. “You’re a pain in the ass, I hope you know.” 

He does have the decency to let out a soft  _ mrrp _ at that, which would be cute if it wasn’t so frustrating. Whoever said that cats weren’t intelligent must not have spent any time around them. 

Rey drops to her knees, picking up the books where they’ve fallen. Only one fell open, to a picture of a naked woman no less. The woman is pale with soft brown hair, sitting in the surf and completely oblivious to the two men also in the picture, gawking at her. She snorts and rolls her eyes. 

As she starts to close the book, a phrase in the middle of the page catches her eyes:  _ steal her skin.  _ Curious, Rey picks up the book at reads the paragraph around the phrase. 

_ Docile and careful homemakers, selkies were said to make excellent wives and mothers. In order to make one his wife, a fisherman would need to catch her in her human form and steal her skin. She would remain faithful to him for as long as he kept the skin hidden from her, but as soon as she it was made available to her, she would always return to her home in the sea.  _

“Ugh,” Rey groans, “gross.” She shuts the book. “Talk about creepy.” 

_ Oh. _ She laughs out loud. That stranger man, the one who accosted her on the beach must’ve been screwing with her. Or maybe flirting? Also possibly still threatening? Whichever way, her being naked and the skin thing must’ve been about these selkie creatures. Maybe it’s one of the things people on the island actually believe in, like fairies apparently. Rey sets the stack of books back on the bedside table before sitting back into her bed. She gives Artoo a few scratches behind the ears, earning her a very loud purr. 

If that guy was being serious, maybe he meant to reassure her. He didn’t seem like the type of person to joke around, especially when the opportunity to clear everything up had presented itself. 

Rey’s hand still as suddenly the rest of their conversation comes to the forefront of her memory. An icy chill races down her spine as she realizes - she never told him her name, but he knew it anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to decide how to write Luke is a pain in the butt, I tell you. On one hand, you want to make the characters reminiscent of recent canon but on the other hand, there's more to Luke than just grumpy island hermit. It might seem odd that he goes from "grrr who are you?" to "hey, wanna have some pot roast?" real quick but I'm trying something with his character. Hopefully, that will become more apparent in later chapters when we get more Luke. Whether or not that winds up being successful is a whole other story lol. 
> 
> Anyhow! Please drop a like or a comment if you enjoyed it. I love hearing from my readers.


	5. Midsummer

Ach-to only shuts down twice a year: Christmas and Midsummer. Takodana closed its doors early the night before, but that didn’t stop the activity in the restaurant. After the dining room was cleaned, Rose and Rey found themselves in the kitchen filling mini tart shells with baked apple pieces and stuffing shredded meat into pastry. It was monotonous and repetitive work, but the company made it easier to handle. They traded stories back and forth as the hours ticked on, exaggerating as much as they could get away with. Maz broke out a jug of honey mead, offering each of them a “sample” to ensure this year’s batch was right. By the time Paige came to take Rose home and Maz sent Rey to bed they were both dissolving into fits of giggles every few minutes. 

The sun is up before Rey’s ready for it, but she showers and dresses all the same. By the time she’s downstairs and ready to move, Maz has already loaded two push carts with mead and tubs of pastry. She’s as spry as ever and Rey’s not sure slept at all. While Rey is still half asleep, the rest of the island isn’t. The beach is already filling up with people, busying themselves in the low light of early morning. They’re setting up shades and fold-up card tables, pulling their own tubs of food and drink out from wherever they’ve stashed it. A group of old men shout instructions at each other, one swearing when the metal structure of their shelter slides in the sand. Poe and someone Rey does not recognize are digging a pit in the sand. Beebee and another dog chase a group of children into the surf as their mothers holler at them for getting wet. The rich, bitter twang of coffee rises with the sea, somewhere down the shore. It’s more activity than Rey’s seen out of the whole town in weeks. 

What’s more, there’s something to the air now, too; something thick and electric. It’s not like a gathering storm, it’s more than that like the air is full to bursting with energy. It prickles Rey’s skin and she wakes quicker than she’s used to, her hazy dissolving like dust in the rain. The world around her comes into sharp focus, feeling much more alive than it has in a long time. The clouds above thin and the sky reveals itself as a vibrant gold around the rising sun and reflecting off the dark water. For the first time, the island is beautiful. She catches the jingling of bells on the wind, somewhere up the beach, and a feeling inside her stirs. She’s not quite sure yet what to call it, but it’s there, weaving its way through her stomach and landing in behind her ribs. A longing, maybe, or a resonance with something larger, something she can almost taste, like salt on her tongue. 

“Rey,” Maz’s voice snaps her out of her own personal reverb. She pulls her attention away from the shore, back to the small woman at her side. “Are you alright?” Maz asks. 

It takes Rey a moment to answer, the strangle feeling still buzzing in her skin. “Of course. Sorry, I must’ve gotten distracted.” 

“Easy to do this time of year,” Maz says, tipping her head toward the shore, “when boundaries get thinner.” 

Rey does her best to offer a smile that isn’t condescending. “I’ve never seen it at sunrise before,” she says. 

Maz hums, walking ahead towards a cluster of people most of whom would be old enough to be Rey’s grandparents, pulling her cart behind her. Rey follows, struggling only minutely against the sand. Maz stops just short of the group before digging a clear trash bag out from behind the keg of honey mead. 

“Here,” she says, handing it to Rey. It's clothes, a few sundresses and maybe a few pairs of jeans, Rey realizes,  “when you find Rose, give this to her. When you to get hungry come see me. I won’t charge you for the pies but make sure Poe has his wallet.” 

“You don’t need me to help? I figured -” 

“Rey, I’ve been doing this on my own for a long time. I can manage. Besides, midsummer is for the young. Play in the sand. Get a sunburn. Dance around the fire. You’ll be bored otherwise.” 

“If you’re sure,” Rey says. 

Maz just smiles, tugging both carts behind her. Rey turns around, walking back to where she came from. She hasn’t seen Rose yet, so she stops a few feet away from the pit Poe and the other man are digging. 

“What are you doing?” She asks. 

Poe looks over his shoulder, flashing her a smile that’s all teeth. “Can’t have a decent bonfire without a fire pit, right?” 

“I guess not,” she says, looking over the hole Poe is standing in. There’s a smaller ring, around the pit, maybe three or so feet from the perimeter, though it’s not nearly as deep. “Why the ring?” 

“Keeps people from falling into the fire. At least theoretically. Haven’t had an issue since we started doing separate fires for jumping and dancing, though.” 

“Jumping? You actually jump into the fire?” 

“Well, through it,” Poe says, “but that’s the idea.” 

“I will never understand you island people,” Rey says. 

Poe’s laugh rings out, loud and clear. “I thought you were one of us  _ island people _ ,” he says. 

Rey rolls her eyes. “Is Rose around yet? I’m supposed to give her this,” she holds up the bag of clothes. 

“Yeah, she should be further down. Look for clotheslines and you should find her,” Poe says. 

“Alright then,” Rey says, “thanks.” She doesn’t bother to ask about the clotheslines, but she has a feeling she’ll find out soon enough. 

Further down the beach, there is less activity, but people still trickle in from the island, carrying with them towels and coolers and their own bags of clothes. Several children are already in their swimming clothes, running towards the surf at full speed while their parents meander behind. 

Sure enough, there are clotheslines on the beach, though a little too close to the water in Rey’s opinion. Sundresses and jeans hang from the line, fluttering in the slight breeze. Rose is standing on a step ladder, wooden clothespins in her teeth as she straightens a blue dress on the line. 

“What are you doing?” Rey asks. 

Rose hums around the pins in her mouth before clipping them to her own peach romper. “Setting out clothes,” she says, “for the fairies.” 

“I thought fairies were supposed to be tiny,” Rey says. 

“Some are. Some are people sized.” 

“And in need of clothes, apparently,” Rey says. 

Rose smiles, coming down off the ladder and brushing past the curtain of dresses. “You can’t really expect them to want to show up to a party naked when everyone else is clothed.”

Rey frowns. Rose is smiling up at her, of course, a mischievous little twinkle dancing in her eyes. “Oh!” Rey says, “you mean the selkies or whatever. Naked seal people.” 

Rose laughs. “So someone finally cracked and told you. Was it Maz? I bet it was Maz.” 

“No, I read it in a book. You can’t be serious,” Rey says shaking her head. 

“As a heart attack.” Rose extends a pair of clothespins to Rey. She takes them, fumbling with the bag and pulling out one very small pair of jeans with wear on the cuffs. 

“You island people really are weird,” Rey says, standing on her toes to reach the line. 

“You can say what you want but I know for a fact that they exist.” 

“Oh you do, do you?” 

“Yup.” 

“So you’ve seen one.” 

“Of course! Back before… well. Before. You’d see pods of them swimming all over the place.” 

“Pods of seals, you mean.” Rey moves over a few feet, pinning another small pair of jeans to the line. 

“Pods of selkies. They don’t look like people when they’re in the water, no, but they’re not seals. You could call out to them and they’d respond.” 

“So they were smart seals.” 

“You don’t have to believe it. They’ll exist whether or not you think they do. But I know what I’ve seen. I know at least a few people who’ve had parents who were friends with selkie women. Just because they’re not around anymore doesn’t mean anything.” 

Rey pins the final item, a thin sundress, to the clothes line. “Why aren’t the seals around much anymore? Fairie people or no I haven’t seen any.” 

Rose sighs, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s been years. They used to be everywhere and then one day they just… vanished.” 

“Maz did say the fishing around here is poor. Maybe that has something to do with it.” 

Rose snorts. “Yeah, the fishing’s poor unless you kiss old man Snoke’s ass.” She starts walking ahead, signaling Rey to follow. 

“I thought he was in real estate.” 

“Real estate, fishing, probably has a secret puppy mill, too. If the island needs it to survive, Snoke’s got his death grip on it.” 

“It’s awful. Who the hell does he think he is?” 

Rose shrugs. “Hell if I know. He just shows up one day and buys a couple of building. Then the fishing dries up for everyone but him and all of the sudden he owns the whole damn island.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rey says. 

Rose shrugs. “He’ll die someday.” 

Rey is startled into a laugh, high and loud. “Rose!” 

“What? It’s the truth.” 

“Yeah, but. That’s a little morbid, don’t you think?” 

“Maybe but at least when he goes we might have a chance to negotiate prices on what used to be our property. Maybe. Hopefully. Depending on which of his shithead nephews get what.” 

Suddenly someone comes up behind Rey, jabbing her in the ribs. She squeals, pulling her arm back to strike but stops short at the last minute. 

“Finn! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” She shouts. 

Finn throws his hands up, taking a step back. “Sorry. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“So sneaking up behind me was meant to do what exactly?” 

“Startle you. Not scare. There’s a difference.” 

Rey rolls her eyes but Finn’s crooked smile helps lessen her irritation just a little. He throws his arm around Rose, holding her close by the waist. 

“I was actually gonna ask if you two wanted breakfast. I know Rose hasn’t eaten because she never does,” he squeezes her just enough to make her squeak, “but I didn’t know if you had.” 

“I’m never going to say no to free food,” Rey says. 

“Good! I was going to insist anyway. You’ll need if for paddle boating later,” he says, throwing his other arm around Rey’s shoulders and steering them towards what looks like a tiny shack connected to the tailgate of a red pickup parked on the beach. “Skip makes the best breakfast burritos known to man.” 

So they have breakfast. Rey’s no stranger to burritos of any kind, but Skips do crack the top five, even if they’re made on in a portable kitchen parked on the beach of an island the rest of the world’s forgotten about. They finish their food and Rey is content to let Finn and Rose lead her around for most of the morning, flitting between the sheltered stands the older people on the island have set up to sell their crafts from. Poe and Connix join them eventually, and somewhere between friendly volleyball games and three or four cups of mead, the day all but slips through her fingers. 

The sun hangs low in the sky by the time Finn finally drags Rose and Rey on onto the water, though not on a paddle boat like he’d intended. They rent a small skiff instead, which Rey’s aching legs are more than thankful for. The vibrant blue of the sky is replaced with shades of purple and orange and the sea below shimmers like it’s made of liquid amethyst. It’s calm and inviting, and Rey wants nothing more than to scoop the water into her hands and bathe herself in it. Finn kills the engine and lets them drift parallel to the beach. They’re far enough away that the dominant sounds are the seabirds and the soft lapping of the waves against the boat instead of the commotion on the shore. The bonfires have been lit, their flames racing towards the sky like they alone could replace the dying sun.

For a moment, Rey forgets that she isn’t alone. She’s used to being alone. She didn’t have many friends growing up and her father was content to provide food and shelter and, when she got older, work, but little else. Lonely isn’t a word she likes to ascribe to herself. It implies a kind of longing, a need for other people that she refused to let herself dwell on. But now, as the bonfires climb towards the heavens and the sea around her darkens, Rey put a name to the feeling that’s been stuck behind her ribs all day. She’s lonely. Desperately, achingly lonely and nostalgic for something that probably never existed in the first place. Ach-to is its own island, it’s own world, really, and Rey doesn’t understand it. Maybe she never will. The Islanders, save for a few like Rose and Finn, hold her at arm’s length, content to stare at her if they acknowledge her existence at all. Their traditions are foreign to her, their way of life too quiet, like a family secret they won’t share with an outsider like her. Even this silly faerie thing was somehow a secret, apparently, one she had to figure out on her own. She’d expected a little adjustment in coming here, but she’d still hoped it would be a homecoming of sorts. Now it’s abundantly clear that it’s not. She’s an outsider in their eyes. Maybe that’s all she’ll ever be.  

“Rey, are you alright?” Rey is startled out of her own thoughts by the weight of Finn’s hand on her shoulder. Rose sits next to him, her right hand twitching like she wants to reach out, too. 

“I’m okay,” Rey says. Her nose tingles and she knows she’s about a minute away from crying. “Just tired.” 

Finn frowns, shooting a quick, silent glance to Rose. Neither of them says anything, and Rey can’t quite tell what their faces are doing in the low light, but she knows a silent conversation when she sees one. 

“We should get back to shore,” Rose says, “the waves probably aren’t helping you stay awake.”

“Plus there’s a whole night worth of things to do,” Finn says, “can’t have you tapping out early, can we?” 

Rey smiles even if she doesn’t really feel like it. They’re obviously not buying it, but at least they’re trying to help. It doesn’t lift the heavy feeling from inside Rey’s chest, but it’s still nice. 

Finn guides them back to shore. He exchanges pleasantries with the man who owns the boat rental as Rose leads Rey back into the warm light of the beach. The sun’s sinking quickly below the water now, the first stars poking out from their hiding places in the dark sky. The night itself is calm, but the people are a whole different story. There’s commotion again as people gather in clusters safe distances from the fires. People leave and return to the beach, carrying with them hand drums and guitars, laughing as they walk. 

The air has shifted. The simmering excitement that’s been present all day is climbing to a fever pitch. 

“What’s going on?” Rey asks because she can’t help it. 

“The fun part,” Rose says. 

A single shrill tone pierces the night, followed by a joyous holler and exuberant laughter. Rey nearly jumps right out of her skin. Rose laughs, patting her on the shoulder. 

“It’s just a pan flute,” Rose says. 

Someone starts clapping a one-two beat that quickly becomes a chorus as more people join in, building until it becomes as loud and steady as the heartbeat in Rey’s ears. Even Rose joins in after a while, and Rey is torn between joining in and focusing on the anticipation building in her guts. Drumming starts on the off-beat, echoing through the night as the beach-goers draw closer to the fires, some of them swaying to the music they make. Rey is half convinced she should be concerned, but there’s nothing threatening about the people around her. A tambourine rattles somewhere close, causing the hair on the back of Rey’s neck to stand at attention. 

And then, all of the sudden the tension snaps. The pan flute comes back, piercing through everything else before settling down into an actual melody. Shouts ring out in wordless exclamations of joy and excitement. Several people rush past her, Finn among them, some skipping and others running, straight for the bonfire. Rey nearly shouts out for them to be careful before they stop, a few sliding in the sand, as they settle into a rhythm around the fire. It’s controlled chaos at best as individuals spin around the fire and each other, pulling willing partners by the hand and twirling, paying no mind to anything but the wild rhythm of the drums and the pulse of the island itself. 

A flash to the right catches Rey’s attention as a young man takes off, full speed towards the smaller fire. He leaps right through, and if the shouts and hollers are anything to go by, he made it safely. The people around the larger fire answer back with their own whoops and shouts. 

Rey chances a glance at Rose, only to be greeted by her conspiratorial smile. “What even -” 

“I told you. Midsummer. You didn’t think we just sat around the fires drinking beer all the time, did you?” Rose has to shout over the commotion. 

“That’s usually what everyone else does.”

Rose laughs, “since when are we anything like everyone else? Come on!” she grabs Rey’s hand and tugs her along, towards the fire. 

“No, no I don’t think -” 

“It’ll be fun!” 

“I’m not much of a dancer!” 

“So skip around instead!” Rose doesn’t give Rey a choice, just drags her right into the circle as soon as there’s a gap. She spins around, clasping both of Rey’s hands with her own as she sways in time with the drumming, walking backward. She pulls Rey into a jerky sway not quite in time with the beat but close. There’s movement all around her, the shapes and flailing limbs of other dancers visible in both light and shadow around the fire. They’re all moving in time to their own rhythms, some jumping, and shouting, others skipping, others finding partners to sway and spin with. No one is doing the same thing but it works, somehow, flowing with the music like it’s a part of them. Rey should feel claustrophobic. She should feel trapped or overwhelmed but she’s… she’s not. 

She doesn’t even realize it when she starts swaying with Rose of her own accord when she twirls and switches positions with Rose when they drop hands and orbit around each other until she’s dizzy. She’s conscious of her own movement, but she’s not concerned with it in the slightest. The beat of the drums stays steady, even as the pan flutes speed towards the end of their piece. Tambourines jingles and she only regrets not having worn skirt play with in time to their rhythm. Every nerve in her body sings, her skin alive under the warmth of the fire. This is freedom. This is a craving she never knew she had until it was satisfied. Whatever old magic that exists in the air tonight calls to her, guides her, welcomes her into its embrace. Finn taps her on the shoulder and she goes with him willingly, laughing as he spins her. She throws her hands to the sky and howls. Her compatriots in the dance answer in kind. 

Rey’s content to stare up at the stars, getting dizzy off the movement of her body and the static sky. That is, of course, until she stumbles, overbalancing and nearly falling on her ass in the sand. She would have, if it weren’t for the hands splayed across her hips, halting her fall. Before she has a chance to react she’s being lifted, spun around in the air and planted back on the ground to greet her savior. Her face falls instantly. 

“You!” She snarls. It’s that guy again, the one she’s certain is either a serial killer or crazy. Or maybe both. She shoves his hands off her, walking backward now, rather than dancing. 

“I have a name, you know,” he says. His lip twitches as the firelight bathes his features, cloaking half of him in shadow. 

“What are you doing here!” She demands. 

They keep moving with the flow of the circle, though their pace has slowed. Rey can’t tell if it’s because of the change in mood or the way the drums now beat slower, more deliberate, louder and hollower somehow. “I thought that would be obvious,” he says. 

“You don’t seem like the type to have fun,” she says. 

He actually has the audacity to roll his eyes at that. “No?”

“No,” she says. 

He’s staring at her again, the glow of the fire reflecting in his eyes like molten metal. He slows his advance as the music takes on a rich, heady quality. “Care to test that?” 

She narrows her eyes at him, fully intent on telling him to buzz off. “Prove me wrong,” she says instead. 

He pulls her close, one hand on her wrist while the other lands solidly on her hip. She clutches his shoulder, uncertain as he walks her backward. He squeezes her hip and she yelps. 

“Just follow my lead,” he says, directing her to sway her hips. 

Rey does. She doesn't even think about, just moves, rolling her hips back and forth at his direction. She shudders when his fingertips drag up her wrist and across her palm. He entwines their fingers, his other hand drifting upward to rest on her waist. They move together, smooth as silk, their footfalls in time with one-two pattern of tiny cymbals. His gaze his unrelenting, entirely focused on her. She’s acutely aware of her own body, of the way it moves, the way it feels with the weight of his hands on her, the way his legs brush against hers, her heart’s heavy, thick pounding, and the sweat that rolls down the side of her neck. The rest of the world might as well not exist, the music reduced to a lusty echo in her blood. It’s just him and her and the fire that snaps and hisses beside them. 

He spins her once, twice, three times before she’s dizzy enough to throw her arms around his neck when he stops. Their hips bump as they move, just barely enough of a slide to make Rey’s insides squirm. She’s nervous, enough to make her consider breaking away, but she won’t. She can’t. It’s more than just being caught in his orbit, though there’s that too. It’s those eyes, dark and swimming with the answer to some question she’s not even sure how to ask. 

And as soon as it started, it ends. The music picks up speed again and the spell is broken. Rey puts as much distance between them as she can. He purses his lips but before he can speak she sprints off, out of the circle and back to the safety of the beach, inexplicably embarrassed. 

\--- 

It’s after midnight. Rey would have thought these islanders would get tired of running and jumping and dancing by now, but the celebration is still in full swing with few signs of slowing down. Only now have parents started to carry their sleepy children back to town, but everyone else seems content to drink honey mead and carry on like the night will last forever. Rey, on the other hand, has had just about enough of people for the next week. She excuses herself from the conversation she’s been half-heartedly having with Connix and Rose to take a walk down the shore where’s is dark and much quieter. She doesn’t stop until the gentle sounds of the waves are louder than the shouts and laughter, finding a nice rock to rest on and dangle her feet into the water. 

She’s tired. It’s not a wholly unpleasant experience, but she feels as though she could just lay down on the beach and sleep for a year. It might be nice, actually, after all the heat she’s endured, to sink into the wet sand and not get up until the sun rises. At least she’d had some time alone to wind down. 

She’s content to let her mind drift, her thoughts landing on nothing in particular and kick her feet in the water when she hears it; that unearthly tinkling of bells across the water. For a moment she thinks she’s been joined by another reveler, but it’s joined by that strange, pitchy wail and her heart freezes in her chest. She’d half-convinced herself that maybe she was drunk when she first heard it, despite that not making any real sense. Maybe she’s exhausted or maybe she’s losing it, but either way, she can hear it, louder than before, slow, ethereal and desperately sad. The notes stick behind her ribs and twist. Her eyes burn and her nose tingles and before she can stop herself she’s sobbing, tears being pulled from deep inside so hard it aches. It makes her gasp for breath in between wet sniffles. It’s disgusting and irrational and pitiful. At least no one’s around to see it. 

“Are you alright?” 

Rey looks up, blinking and wiping away the tears as fast as she can. Of course. Of fucking course. It’s mister “I’m not a serial killer” himself. Of all the people on the island, it had to be him. “I’m fine,” she says, her voice wet and sticky. 

“You don’t sound fine,” he says. 

“I said, I’m fine,” she snaps, hiccuping on another sob. She’s not going to be a mess in front of this man. She refuses. 

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself. It’s not good for your psyche,” he says, wading into the water and setting himself down on another high rock. 

“What’s your problem?” She grouses, “are you stalking me or something?” 

“Or something,” he mutters, staring out at the ocean just past her head.  She turns, finding nothing but the empty sea. 

Rey sniffles, wiping her nose on the collar of her shirt. It’s gross but she doesn’t have a tissue and she’d rather not walk back to the beach dripping snot. 

“You can hear them, can’t you?” The man asks, turning his attention back to Rey. 

She’s got a snarky reply on the tip of her tongue when she turns to look at him directly, but what she sees shocks her out of it. His jaw flexes as he swallows, his eyes and cheeks wet with tears he isn’t even trying to hide. He looks so… genuine. And sad. 

“I hear them, too,” he says with the barest of a sniffle. 

“You do?” 

He nods. “Every night.” 

“What is it?” 

“The selkies,” he says, “they’re singing.” 

Rey half-scoffs, half-hiccups, earning herself a narrow-eyed frown. 

“Sorry,” she says, “I just -” she just what? Thinks he’s nuts if he believes in faerie people who live in the sea? Thinks she’s nuts that she can hear them when no one else but him, apparently, can? Hell, maybe they’re both nuts. 

“You don’t believe it,” he says. 

“No. Of course not.” She refrains from saying more. 

“And yet you cry,” he says. “Obviously it affects you. Isn’t that all the proof you need?” 

“Until I see one of these supposed seal people pop out of the sea and say hi, no. I’m not going to.” 

His face twitches ever so slightly as he turns away, looking back out at the horizon. “Do you understand the words?” He asks. 

“What words?” 

“I guess not, then.” 

He’s quiet then, lips moving in the barest of shapes Rey can’t hope to decipher as the signing grows louder, sharper, more distinct. She can pick out individual parts, now. The sounds that warble like a flute no longer overlapping with the ones that bellow and moan like an organ. It’s nearly unbearable, forcing her to suck in air to keep from bursting into another bout of sobs. 

“What are they -” Rey forces herself to breath steady, “what are they singing about?” She’ll indulge him, just a little, if talking keeps her from focusing on the noise and the way she reacts to it. 

“They’re in mourning. They’ve lost one of their own,” he says. 

“How?” 

“How do you think?” 

Rey thinks back to the book and the ways a fisherman could “win” himself a selkie wife. She shudders, her stomach dropping to her knees. “That’s horrible.” 

He nods, his eyes flitting from her face to the horizon then back again. 

He doesn’t seem to want to elaborate, so she searches for something else to say. “What did you say your name was, again?” 

He swallows, just the barest hint of fear sparking in his eyes. “Ben,” he says, “my name is Ben.” 

“How did you know my name, Ben?” She asks, leaning a little closer. She hopes her voice is gentle and not as scratchy as her throat feels, but there’s no guarantee.  Seeing him like this, so openly upset and cautious tugs at her. She wants to keep talking for herself, yes, but she has a suspicion it might keep him from listening too closely, too. 

“How old were you when you left the island?” He asks instead. 

“About five, I think. Why?” 

“Five isn’t that young, is it? Why don’t you remember, then?” 

“Remember what?” 

A shout rings out in the night, distinctly male but too far away to make out the words. Ben shoots up, rushing back up to the beach. 

“I - I have to go. I’m sorry,” he says, not even sparing a glance back at Rey as he splashes through the water. 

Rey calls after him, but he doesn’t heed. She out of the water, and racing after him, but he’s already faded into the black night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have [a tumblr](http://rosemoonweaver.tumblr.com/) and I don't bite (unless you're into that kind of thing)!
> 
> Also, if you're curious, what Rey and Ben are hearing is something like Amhran na Farrige (Song of the Sea). [Here's a link](https://youtu.be/5FkiHtTO-mk) to the song in Gaelic, with English translation, performed by Lisa Hannigan.


	6. Sins of the Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the first chapter that really starts to deal with some of the more upsetting themes, mainly domestic violence/abuse, and slavery (sorry, but I don't know what else to call it when one person considers another property).   
> The following occurs: non-graphic spousal abuse, physical fighting, referenced corporal punishment/physical abuse, implied mental and emotional abuse, discussions of abuse, victim blaming, and discussions of slavery. If you need more details on these things before reading, please see the endnotes. 
> 
> Also, I should let you know now that while I am writing Ben fairly soft in this AU, he's still got an element of danger and threat to him and that's not going to change. Just letting you know.

Rey stands on the beach, her feet sinking into the sand. The sun hides behind a thick cover of clouds, making the sky sick and sallow with its light. It’s dawn, perhaps. Rey’s not sure. She is sure of one thing, though; this is a dream. 

She’s gotten better at picking them out now, as often as they happen. The wind should be cold but it’s not. The bells that echo in the air have no source. The sand that pelts her skin isn’t real. None of this is real. She’ll be swallowed by the shore soon. Then she’ll wake, her heart pounding and upper lip sweating all the same. Perhaps this is what it feels like to lose your mind - to be trapped in the same dream every night, only that you become more aware of it but helpless to stop it. It could certainly drive one mad. 

She doesn’t run from the wind this time. She’s not afraid, no matter how loud the phantom windchimes clatter together, no matter how painful the needle-like sand is against her skin. She’s not afraid. It’s just a dream. The ground opens up and sucks her in. It’s still just a dream. 

Rey lands on her ass on the cold, hardwood floor. For a moment, she’s convinced she’d fallen out of bed, but the bed is clear on the other side of the room, undisturbed. What’s more, it’s a king-sized, four-post bed, intricate headboard resting against the middle of the wall. Behind her is a balcony, open to the sweet morning air and the faint clattering of sea glass windchimes that hang from the eave. Well then. This is new. 

She steps out onto the balcony, staring down at the green lawn below. She can’t see the shore, just rolling hills dusted with yellow flowers and hearty trees for shade. Even though a soft breeze tickles the curls at the back of her neck, nothing moves, save the windchime.  It’s like a photo, frozen in this beautiful, serene moment, but it’s all wrong. It’s too sharp, to defined to be here. From somewhere deep inside the house there is shouting, though it echoes funny like she were listening through a plate of glass. 

Footfalls pound against the wood, growing clearer and more solid with each step until the bedroom door is thrown open. Next is the scrape of wood against wood. Rey’s heart is in her throat as she peeks around the doorway back into the bedroom. She’s not alone anymore. There’s a woman in a blue dress, bracing herself against a heavy looking dresser, scooting it little by little until it thuds against the wall, blocking the door. Her long brown curls fall in her face sticking to the tear tracks on her cheeks. She’s biting her lip and rushing around the room, barefoot. 

“Are you alright?” Rey asks. The woman pays no attention to her, hurrying to the massive bed until she’s on her knees at its side. She struggles with the frame, attempting to push it from where it stands but it doesn’t budge. 

Another set of heavy footsteps sound outside the room, halting only to be replaced by the jiggling of the doorknob. 

“ _ Let me in! _ ” A man’s voice shouts from the other side of the door. “ _ You can’t do this to me! _ ” 

The woman is on her hands and knees now, struggling to pull herself under the low-set bed. She’s fighting with something underneath. The man on the other side of the door begins to pound against the wood, frantic. “ _ Padme, open this door right now! _ ” He shouts. 

The woman, Padme, lets out a choking sob, struggling to wrench something free from wherever it’s stuck under the bed. Rey wants to run over, to help however she can, but her legs won’t move. She’s rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch as this unfolds. She swallows, her throat dry and pulse jumping as the frantic pounding at the door becomes a series of thuds. 

Two things happen at once. First, Padme works one of the floorboards free, tossing it towards the balcony where it clatters at Rey’s feet. Second, the door splinters with a sick crack, followed by a terrible bang as a black boot comes through the shattered wood and topples the dresser to the floor with a bang. 

“ _ Anakin, don’t! Please! _ ” Padme cries out. 

It’s too late. The boot comes through the door, again and again, ripping a hole through the wood like it were paper. 

Rey doesn’t see what happens next. The world tilts on its axis, churning Rey’s stomach and sending her to her knees. There’s a scream, though whether it’s hers or someone else’s she’s unsure. 

“ _ Mama, mama! Come look what I found! _ ” A child’s voice breaks through the darkness. 

“ _ Rey - _ ” 

Rey bolts up in bed, gasping like she’s run a marathon. It takes her a moment to get her bearings, fingers flexing in the sheets to reaffirm that this is real. She’s really in her bed and it was just a dream. It wasn’t real. 

A soft meow draws her attention to the other side of the bed. Artoo sits, ears perked, watching her. She scratches him behind the ears, letting her fingers sink into his soft fur. He’s real. Her bed is real. The sunlight coming in and the sound of birds through the open window is real. She’s okay. She was never in any danger in the first place. It was just a weird, messed up dream. 

Artoo bumps her hand with his head, unhappy with the meager scritches she’s given. “Sorry, kitty cat,” she says, “weird dream.” He doesn’t seem to mind, hoping up on her lap and rubbing his furry cheeks over as much of her hand as he can get to. 

\----

“I didn’t even know we had a library,” Finn says, holding the door for Rey. She’d been meaning to return the books to Luke for a few days now, but she’d been waiting until Maz decided to load her up with more Tupperware. Fortunately, it would only be one trip. Unfortunately, it was a struggle to hold all the books and the two tubs in her hands. She really needed to get a bag or something. Thankfully, Finn had stopped by to stopped by to chat. Apparently, work was slow at the Tico sister’s boat repair, so he had time on his hands. 

“Apparently,” Rey says. “I didn’t know either until Maz sent me over. She knows the owner.” 

“Luke, right?” Finn asks, taking the Tupperware out of Rey’s hands. 

“Do you know him?” 

“Not personally but I’ve heard of him. Some of the older folks mention him from time to time. He grew up here. Made a lot of money fishing when you still could.” 

“Everyone around here used to fish,” Rey says. 

“Yeah, but from what I hear he had some kind of insane talent for it. He could take a ship to sea and come back with full nets. Even when Snoke showed up. And then one day he just stopped I guess. He was still making money, people still worked for him and he just stopped and became a hermit.” 

“Doesn’t seem that odd,” Rey says, “people retire.” 

“He’s was only in his forties,” Finn says. 

“Well if he made that much money he probably didn’t want to keep fishing in his fifties.” 

“I guess. But then he just… lives on his own on the edge of town, not talking to anyone? That’s a little odd, Rey.” 

“What are you suggesting?” Rey asks. 

“I dunno, honestly. Some people say he fell in love with a faerie woman but she died so he stays away out of grief. Other people say he’s a witch who commands the sea and Snoke stole his magic,” Finn says. 

Rey snorts. “Are there any normal theories? Like his girlfriend left him so he gave up on life or his uncle died and left him the library?” 

Finn smiles. “Come on, on this island? You gotta be kidding me. Everything is faeries or magic or talking animals or something. It’s never anything as mundane as a broken heart.” 

“So I take it you don’t believe in the magic crap either?” Rey asks, shifting the books in her arms.  

Finn shrugs. “You know honestly, I’m not sure. Rose seems to think it’s real and she’s not usually the irrational type; she doesn’t even read horoscopes for fun. So her believing in this stuff… I dunno. I’ve never seen it but that doesn’t mean anything. They gotta have stories about this kinda thing for a reason, right?” 

“Maybe,” Rey says, “seems a little silly that the whole town would be more inclined to believe in magic than an old-fashioned rumor, though.” 

Finn hums his assent. The two fall into an easy silence for a while, the beat of their feet against the stone the only noise. Other people are out, too, minding their own business, but Rey watches as their eyes dart away from her. 

“Finn, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure,” he says. 

“How long did it take for people on the island to accept you?” She asks. 

“I dunno, a month or so I guess. Why? Having trouble feeling like you fit in?” 

“A little. They just,” Rey huffs, tipping her head in the direction on one woman on the other side of the street. “She’s been sweeping that same exact spot since we came into view and she’s still sweeping. And she won’t look at me unless I stop looking at her.” 

“How do you know she’s looking at you if you’re not looking at her?” 

“I can feel her eyes on me. I can feel all their eyes on me, but they won’t look at me and they won’t talk to me. They treat me like I don’t exist.” 

“They’re just busy-bodies,” Finn says, “We’re probably just jump-started their overactive imaginations by coming out here together. They’ll probably start a rumor that we’re shacking up.” 

“What? But we’re just walking together?” 

“You’re a pretty girl, I’m an attractive guy, doesn’t take much.” 

“We’re just friends,” Rey says, a little forcefully. 

“I know that. You know that. But that’s the way it goes. People love gossip.” 

“Fine, so they can think I’m a man-stealing tart, but that doesn’t explain why they do it when I’m alone. I don’t hang usually hang out with anyone on the weekdays.” 

“Well, they could think you’re one of those mysterious seal people from the sea,” Finn says, bumping her with his shoulder. 

Rey snorts, rolling her eyes. “Come on. That’s ridiculous.” 

“They think the village librarian is a magical sea witch who used his power for fishing instead of… I dunno, a shark army.” 

“Shark army?” Rey snorts, giggles overtaking her. 

“That’s what I’d do if I had magic sea witch powers. I’d be like Aqualad with an army of sharks and dolphin buddies and shit. No one would fuck with me.” 

Rey laughs. “I suppose we know what you’re doing if you get bit by a radioactive dolphin or something.” 

“Hell yeah,” Finn says. 

They turn a corner and suddenly the pleasant mood they were sharing evaporates as they catch sight of the two men walking towards them on the wrong side of the street. There’s Hux on the right, somehow looking worse in the light of day than he does in the low lights of the pub. He’s as washed out and pale as the rest of the island, red hair blazing like fire in the sunlight. Next to him is Ben, who takes on look at her and casts his eyes down, shrinking behind Hux as if the other man could possibly hide him. 

“Crap,” Finn whispers, taking a step backward and around Rey’s back until she’s closer to the gutter and the brick buildings than he is. “Just keep your head down and they won’t bother us,” he says. 

Rey frowns, ignoring him. She keeps her head up and her eyes forward, undeterred. Finn grabs her by the elbow, determined to steer her towards the wrong end of the street but she shakes him off. Hux can move or be crashed into. She’d say as much, too, if it weren’t for the fact that he stops three feet in front of her. For a moment, she thinks he’ll motion for her to pass, but he doesn’t. He just stares down his nose at her, waiting for her to move. Finn isn’t trying to tug her away anymore, but he is casting weary looks between her and Hux. 

“You’re Kanata’s new charity case, aren’t you? The clumsy waitress,” Hux says. His lips twitch, a sneer itching to get out. 

Rey doesn’t dignify it with a response. Instead, she looks to Ben, who’s resolutely staring at the wall behind her. 

“She’s failed you, I see,” Hux says, taking a step forward. “Either that or you’re remarkably foolish in your disrespect.” 

Rey scoffs. “It’s a public street. I can walk anywhere I want.” 

“I own this street,” Hux says, “you can walk wherever you want unless I’m on it. Then,  _ you _ move.” 

“What are you, some schoolyard bully?” 

“Rey!” Finn hisses through clenched teeth, eyes wide. 

“What? He’s a prick.” She looks Hux right in the eye as she speaks: “I’ve heard all about what you think you own. Just because your uncle has money doesn’t give you the excuse to treat other people like garbage. You’d know that if you matured past the third grade.” 

Finn makes a pitiful noise beside her, wrapping his hand around the bend of her elbow and crowding her closer to the gutter. She can’t shake him off this time. 

Hux’s lip twitches in a half smile, though there’s no humor behind it. “You ought to learn to watch your mouth,” he says. 

“Or what? You're not above arrest.” 

“Aren't I?” Smug satisfaction drips from Hux's crooked smile. “Ben, remind them who's in charge around here.” 

It happens fast. The books Finn was holding clatter to the ground as he drops his arms, now grabbing Rey by both elbows and putting his weight behind his shoves. Rey stumbles, unwilling to move as Ben advances on them. His hands are on the collar of Finn’s shirt and Finn is torn away from her and slammed against the brick wall before Rey can even cry out. Finn grunts when his body hits and Rey screams. 

“Ben! What are you doing?” 

He isn't paying attention to her. Instead, he's lifting Finn by his clothes until he's at eye level while Finn squirms and kicks. Hux is still smirking when Rey looks back at him, but it doesn't take her more than a moment to drop what she's carrying, too and rush to Finn’s aid. Ben's got him by the throat now, and Rey is clawing desperately at the sleeve of his leather jacket. It's no use. 

“Ben! Stop it! You're hurting him!” 

Finn mouths for Rey to run. She's not going anywhere, though. She got him into this. She has to get him out. “Ben! Please!” 

Ben's eyes flicker over to hers just for an instant. He feels back, one fist clenched at his side. 

“You're going to kill him! Stop!” Rey's crying now. She kicks at Ben's shins and clawing at the hand he has around Finn’s throat. It just isn't helping. She's still yelling, blubbering half-formed words and threats. 

Ben's fist comes up then hits and for one sickening second Rey thinks he's knocked Finn out cold. But no, Finn's on his knees, gasping for breath, and Ben's fist is still pressed against the wall, a thin trail of blood trickling down his knuckles. 

“Go,” he growls. 

Rey's stunned only for a moment, but she's on the ground quick, gathering up what she can carry and tugging Finn by the arm to do the same. She doesn't even bother to check that she's got everything before she and Finn and scurrying out of the alleyway. 

When Rey looks back, she can only see Hux and his acid glare. 

She and Finn don't speak until they make it to the library. Luke takes one look at the two of them and motions for them to follow up the stairs and into his living quarters, leaving them on the couch as he puts a kettle on and puts his leftovers away. 

“I'm sorry,” Rey whispers. There are finger-shaped bruises blooming on Finn’s neck. 

“Don't be,” Finn says. His voice is rough and Rey cringed at the sound of it. 

“You warned me,” she says, “this is my fault.” 

Finn clears his throat. “You weren't the one choking me.” 

“I didn't know he would do that,” Rey says. Though their first meeting had been rough, truth be told, Rey had begun thinking of Ben in a different light. She'd been willing to chalk it up to a misunderstanding, even if it was a little… difficult to wrap her mind around. Maybe he believed in the faerie people and was a tad overzealous about it, but she'd stopped thinking of him as dangerous. But apparently, she'd been wrong. 

“It's not the worst he's ever done,” Finn says. 

“That doesn't make me feel better,” Rey says. 

Finn squeezes her hand, offering a small smile. Rey manages to return it, though she still feels like she's swallowed a rock. 

Luke comes back into the main living area, two cups of tea and a plate of cookies in his hands. “Sorry,” he says, “chamomile would be better for a sore throat but I don't have any.” 

“It's fine,” Finn says, taking a hearty swallow with no concern for the temperature. Rey, on the other hand, cradles her mug in her hands. 

“Try the cookies,” Luke says, “Naberrie secret recipe.” 

Finn stuffs one into his mouth. “They're cold,” he says. 

“We freeze them right after we bake them. Keeps them soft and chewy.” 

Rey nods along but says nothing. She's stuck inside her own head, unable to make sense of it all. It's not like she's never seen a fight before, or even been in one, but this bothers her in a way she can't describe. 

“Rey? Are you alright?” Luke asks. 

“What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine.” 

“Hey,” Finn says squeezing her wrist, “don't let those assholes scare you. Nothing's gonna happen to you when I'm around.” 

“What happened?” Luke asks, frowning. 

“We ran into tweedle-dee and tweedle-dickhead on the way down here,” Finn says. 

“I see.” Luke's face goes blank, hard and cold and he seems to age ten years in an instant. “Best to stay far away from those two.” 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Finn says. 

“He danced with me at midsummer,” Rey says. 

“Which one?” Luke asks. 

“He didn't try to pull anything, did he?” Finn asks. 

Rey shakes her head. “Ben. He wasn't… he was different then. And afterward when I stepped away to gets some air he was there and he said -” Rey pauses, shaking the thought from her mind. Finn may not remember her little episode of hearing things on the beach but even if he does she doesn't want to bring it up in front of Luke. “I don't remember but he wasn't an asshole.” 

“Why’d he start talking to you?” Finn asks. “Not that you’re not interesting or anything but the only time he interacts with anyone but Hux is to be his uncle’s attack dog.” 

“His uncle? He’s Snoke’s other nephew?” 

“Yeah. Sorry, I thought someone told you already,” Finn says. “Sometimes I forget you’re not in the loop.” 

Rey sighs, finally taking a drink of her tea. It's still warm, but not impossible to drink. “I didn’t know that.” She looks towards Luke to find him staring at the far wall, the one covered in framed photos of people she doesn’t know. He’s not looking at them, though. He’s worlds away by now if the vacant glaze in his eyes is anything to go by. He’s probably not even listening at this point. 

“They don’t look much alike,” Rey says, staring down at her reflection in the tea. “Are they brothers or cousins?” 

“I’m… not actually sure what their relationship is,” Finn says. “I don’t think anyone else is either. They just showed up one day a while back with Snoke a decade ago, I guess.” 

“Seven years,” Luke says. Apparently, he has been paying attention to them. “It was seven years ago when Snoke showed up with Hux. The boys were… well, they were just boys. It wasn’t so bad at first, just poor luck fishing, but then the boys grew up and it wasn’t just unsustainable to keep fishing; it got dangerous. People packed up and moved, others mortgaged out their homes and businesses to stay on the island. Before we knew it, everything we owned was his. Everyone who’s still here is stuck here until Snoke decides to do whatever it is he plans on doing with the island, assuming that’s more than just make everyone on it suffer.” 

“If you had the money, would you move away?” Rey asks. 

“If you’re asking me if you should save what you have and get the hell off this island before it swallows you, too, the answer is yes,” Luke says, rising out his chair. 

Rey huffs, ripping the surface of her tea. “There has to be something we can do about Snoke, isn’t there? He can’t just raise the rent on things whenever he feels like it. And he can’t hide behind his asshole nephews and abuse people like this. It’s got to be illegal.” 

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Luke snaps. There’s a bizarre tremble in his lip that undercuts the finality of his words if only just a little. “This place is built on avarice and apathy. It’s only fitting that it should be doomed by it, too.” 

Rey exchanges a glance with Finn as Luke wanders into the kitchen. Neither brings up anything related to Snoke or their run-in with Hux and Ben for the remainder of the visit. 

\----

Rey’s too keyed up to sleep. She’s mostly used to the waitressing gig, even to the point that her face hurts from smiling - which she’s actually remembering to do now - all night long. The only problem is that instead of wearing her out, by the time she’s finished wiping down the tables and counting her tips, she’s fully alert. It’s just as well though, as her dreams have been frustratingly similar. Every night it’s the same thing. She stands on the beach and the wind blows. The night before had been different, with the woman she’d never seen before running from… whoever it was. Still. They don’t make sense and they leave her feeling more tired than when she went to bed. What she wouldn’t give for a normal nonsense dream, like the ones where she’s being chased by dinosaurs, or can’t get her car to start, or late for her own wedding. 

Rey gets up, putting on a pair of jeans and flip-flops before making her way down the stairs and out the door. Maybe if she wanders out on the beach for a while she’ll start to feel sleepy. She makes sure to lock the back door behind her, as it’s well past midnight and Maz is most likely in bed and asleep already. 

The night air is mild and the sea is calm. The sky above is clear, making the inky band of the galaxy visible past the twinkling of closer stars. It’s quiet like it always is, and it puts Rey at ease. Her trek along the beach isn’t easy, but anything more than a slow walk is never easy through sand. For a moment, her strange dreams flash through her mind, and her heart clenches at the thought of falling through the sand. It’s ridiculous, really, to even consider it, so she ignores the thought and focuses on her breathing, rather than the way her feet slip through the sand. Done by the shore in her usual swimming and thinking spot, a lone figure sits, knees cradled to their chest. It’s Ben. How Rey knows it, she’s not sure, but she knows who it is before she even gets close enough to make out more than his silhouette. She huffs and marches towards him because Rey is a lot of things but easily cowed is not one of them. 

Rey crosses her arms over her chest, standing tall above him. “You,” she snaps. 

“What about me?” He asks. He keeps his head down, the waning moon above them providing only enough like for him to hide from. 

“What the hell is your problem? You attack me in the middle of the night, then you stalk me, then you try to convince me you're not a lunatic and then you nearly kill my friend? And now you're here? In my spot? What the hell?” 

“Most of that is an exaggeration,” Ben says. 

Rey squawks her indignation. “You've got some nerve -” 

“I never attacked you. I never stalked you. I didn't try to kill your friend.” 

“So choking someone is what, a friendly gesture where you're from? He could have died, Ben, and you just kept doing it.” 

“I let him go.” 

“Oh! Cookie for you, then! Why'd you do it in the first place!” 

“Hux told me to.”

“Are you kidding me? Hux told you - So what? Do you do everything he tells you to do? Can't you think for yourself? Or do you just like being an asshole to everyone all the time?” 

“It's not -”

“And why didn't you tell me you were Snoke’s nephew? You tell me you're not my enemy but you're related to him? The guy who's been ruining my friends' lives? And you're the guy they're all afraid of? Did you think I wouldn't find out? What were you gonna do -”  

“Why do you keep asking questions when you don't care about the answers?” Ben looks up at her then, his face illuminated in the soft glow of the moon. Rey's anger deflates as she registers what she sees. His lip is busted, a red scab forming toward the right corner of his mouth. The right side of his face is completely swollen and his eye is ringed with shadow. The skin is spattered with shallow cuts and a sickening rainbow of red, brown, and blue bruises. 

Rey drops to her knees and reaches out, trying not to spook him, but Ben still flinches when she tries to get a better look. 

“What happened?” She whispers. 

“It was my own fault. I displeased my master,” Ben says. 

“Your master?” 

“Snoke.” 

Rey scoots closer on her knees. “Your uncle? He hit you?”

Ben reels back. “He's not my uncle. He says it's best people understand it that way.” 

“But he hits you.” 

“He disciplines me.” There's a bitterness in Ben's voice that both breaks Rey's heart and makes her blood boil. 

“Ben. No. That's not - he doesn't get to hurt you like this. It's not right.” 

“It could be worse,” Ben says. 

Rey is at a loss. She doesn't know what to say or do with this, or if saying what she's feeling would make it worse. “Ben -” 

“I knew what would happen if I disobeyed Hux. I made my decision and I paid the consequences.” 

“That's not right. You don't have to put up with this. You can leave.” 

“No. I can't.” 

“You could. If the sheriff knew -” 

“They don't care, Rey. They've never cared.” 

Rey sits up straighter. “I care. I'll help you.” 

Ben snorts, turning away to stare back out to sea. “It's not that easy, Rey. He's my master. I can't leave him.” 

“I know it sounds hard but if you want to -” 

“No, Rey. I _ can't _ . No matter how much I want to. I can't.” Ben takes a breath, then looks back at Rey. “You don't understand and you don't believe. You can't help me.” 

“Of course I believe -” 

“What was your mother's name, Rey?” He scoots closer, so much so that she can feel the warmth of his body. 

“What was my - I don't see what my mother has to do with this.” 

“Humor me.” 

“Arlo.” 

“What was her maiden name?” 

“I-I don't know.” 

“Where are her parents?” The intensity in his eyes makes Rey’s stomach churn. He shouldn’t have this affect on her, especially not over something so mundane. Her heart races and anxiety crawls up her spine. 

“Dead. I don't -” 

“Have you ever visited their graves? Do you know their first names? Have you ever seen pictures of them.” 

“I- I. No.” 

“Do you remember after your mother died? Your father told you-you were moving so you went to the shore and cried?” 

Rey takes a shaky breath, thinking back as far as she can. She has vague memories of an empty casket in an old church and people she didn't know all around her. She remembers what her childhood home looked like, large hallways lined with cardboard boxes. But she doesn't remember going to the shore to cry. 

“You called out and I heard you. You were sad and alone so I came to you. And I would've taken you with me but you left.” Ben’s gaze softens, and he looks so… desperate. Between the bruises and the dark, wet eyes in front of her, he just looks… frankly awful. Rey bites her lip to keep it from quivering. The same storm of emotion that swirls behind his eyes starts to rise in her chest, and she huffs a few deep breaths to tamp it down. Why does he do this to her? 

“I came back for you as soon as I could but I couldn't find you. I came to shore, and that's when Snoke found me.” 

“Ben, how? That doesn't make any sense.’ 

“Rey, don't you ever wonder why you're here? Why the sea calls to you? Why you hear the selkies when none of your friends do? Why I hear them, too?” 

“Ben this isn’t right.” Rey flinches as soon as the words leave her mouth. This is wrong. This is so completely wrong. They’re supposed to be talking about him. She’s supposed to be helping him. She can accept that she can’t give him a piece of her mind, given the circumstances, but she can’t accept that it’s all veered so far of course. “I’m not a seal person,” she says. 

“No, you're not. Not completely. But I am.” 

Rey fumbles for words. Clearly, this is… well, it's a lot worse than she thought. If Ben thinks he's a selkie then she's completely out of her depth. Her stomach rolls and she wants to hurl or run or both. 

“But you don't believe me,” Ben says, rising to his feet, “you can't help me because you won't believe me. You're going to tell yourself it doesn't make sense and that I'm insane. If you try help while you refuse to see what's right in front of you, you'll just make it worse.”

He turns to leave, but Rey calls out to him before he blends into the night. “How? How am I supposed to believe this? You're talking about faeries, Ben!”

“Why don't you start by looking for your mother?” Ben suggests.

Rey stays still, as his muffled footsteps grow faint and she's left with the freefall of her contradictory emotions. She’s terrified, but of what she can’t name. She’s angry, at him and at herself. She’s sad and worried and completely off kilter. Tears spill down her cheeks of their own accord as she stares into the darkness, confused, alone, and conflicted. 

She stays on the beach for a long time, long after she’s timed her breathing to the flow of the water and calmed herself down. Where the hell is she supposed to go from here? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spousal abuse: In a dream Rey has, Padme blocks the door, attempting to keep Anakin out while she looks for something. He breaks the door down to get in.   
> Physical fighting: Ben chokes Finn at Hux's command.   
> Corporal punishment/physical abuse: Ben is punished by Snoke for not hurting Finn worse. His face is covered with bruises and shallow cuts as a result.   
> Implied mental and emotional abuse: Ben refers to Snoke as his master and says that he cannot leave.   
> Discussions of abuse: Rey and Ben talk around what Snoke did to "punish" Ben. The words "abuse" is not used but they both know what they're talking about.   
> Victim blaming: Ben blames himself rather than Snoke for what's happened to him.   
> Discussions of slavery: Ben refers to Snoke as his master and says that he cannot leave him and must do as he says or be punished. 
> 
> Whew! Okay! That's a lot of stuff. Anyway, if you enjoyed the fic please let me know in the comments! I have a [tumblr](http://rosemoonweaver.tumblr.com/) if you want to say hi. Also, there is a [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21gIXA7p12kJSAn8uvVTkp) for this fic if you're interested in hearing what I listen to to capture the mood. 
> 
> Have a Blessed Samhain/ Happy Halloween if you celebrate it!


	7. Recognition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with domestic violence, slavery, and physical abuse.   
> Please be advised that the following occurs: discussions of kidnapping, implied of domestic violence, implied of physical abuse, all the nasty implications of forced marriages, discussions of death, and past character death.

Rey stands on the edge of the cobblestone path, the field of flowers and rolling hills before her. Somewhere on the other side of all this green is a cemetery, the one where her mother’s tombstone sits. She has no idea how long it’s going to take her to get there, but she’s not going to rent a boat she doesn’t know how to steer and she wants to do this by herself. She’s got a small drawstring bag with her, stuffed with a notebook, a few chocolate bars, and a flashlight, if it comes down to that. She hopes it doesn’t though. Being by herself on the island during the day is fine but she’s much less confident about being alone in the dark. 

She makes her way out, mindful of the rocks and the holes in the ground. The last thing she wants is to fall and break something out here. She didn’t tell anyone where she was going, but it’s not like she really had any idea either. She’d stopped in the library to get information and what she found didn’t satisfy her. She needs to see her mother’s grave. She needs… she’s not totally sure yet, but she’ll know it when she gets it. 

The hills are quiet, like the rest of the island. It’s something she expected in the more civilized parts of the island, but out here she’d expected at least the twittering of birds or anything that signified life of any kind. It’s just the wind and the occasional snap of a twig underneath her feet. 

She hasn’t slept much in the past few days. There’s too much in her head to let her and even if she did she’s sure she’ll just wind up more exhausted than before. Maybe it’s the island. Maybe staying up past three in the morning and waking just before noon, combined with the stress of the move is what’s making her exhausted. Maybe she hasn’t been getting enough sun. Maybe she has a hormone imbalance. Maybe that’s the reason for the strange dreams and the weird thing she’s hearing. Maybe she’s having a mental issue. Her father seemed like a rational man - when he was sober - but maybe her mother had some problems she was never told about. Rey would happily take inherited mental illness as an answer at this point. At least that would be a reasonable explanation. At least that could be treated. 

Rey stops, taking a moment to really take in her surroundings. She’s been walking for a while and even the blurry grey outline of buildings have vanished from view. From here, she can’t see the shore in the distance and the small woods that separates the hills from the sea, but she knows it’s there. It’s always been there, always in her mind even as a land-locked child. It’s always called to her, always beckoning her back home. It’s why, of all the places in the world, she chose Ach-to. She’d been expecting something to change when she got back, some kind of answer to the hollow longing in her heart, but so far there’s been nothing. Maybe he’s just a lonely person. Maybe she’s idealized the idea of belonging to somewhere. Maybe she’s the problem. 

Still, there are things she can’t shake about all this. If it were just loneliness or misplaced nostalgia, it might be manageable. But it’s the things she doesn’t want to think about that really concern her. The singing that no one else seems to hear - no one but Ben, that is. Ben himself, who’s both mysterious and open, who draws ire and pity from her when she doesn’t want either, who makes her feel off-kilter in every way. And then there’s the odd way that he seems to know more about her than he should. He digs up all kinds of memories that she doesn’t want to bother with, and worse, memories she’s not even sure she has. She doesn’t remember her mother, not really. Rey can remember the color of her mother’s hair (brown but a shade lighter than her own) but not her eyes (she’s been told they were nearly black) or the sound of her voice, outside of one, off-key phrase of a song she’s clung desperately to all her life;  _ Lady, long have I loved you _ . The single phrase from a song Rey’s long since forgotten is all she has of her mother. There are no pictures, no letters, not even any belongings of her mother’s anymore. Rey never knew what her father did with any of it, or if such things existed in the first place. Rey herself never keep much in the way of belongings, because there really wasn’t a reason to do so. Maybe her mother was the same way. 

She shakes her head, attempting to dislodge the dark thoughts that start to take root in her mind, and trudges forward. She tries to catalog all the things around her, for reference on her way back. It’s a whole lot of grass and trees, but not much else. It’s all the same endless expanse of wood and hill. She could get turned around so easily out here. She could wind up wandering, out in the open, for days, and no one would know. She could just disappear out here, vanishing into the air like a puff of smoke. When she was in the library, she’d been looking through the death records of the inhabitants of Ach-to in the past hundred years. There had been dozens of drownings or “assumed drownings” as some records indicated. She’d expected that, given that it was an island. But what bothered her was the number of women drowned or assumed drowned as compared to the men. Maybe there had been more fisherwomen than she anticipated, but for every death by heart attack or accident or anything else she’d seen in the records, there were two for drowned women. 

She wonders, briefly, if she’d be assumed drowned if she disappeared out here. Would anyone bother with looking on land if so many women died in the sea? 

Rey’s pulled from her thoughts when she notices, for the first time in a while, a small dirt path to her right. It would be nearly invisible, due to the weeds that have risen to overtake it, if it weren’t for the fact that it was much flatter than the rest of the hilled area she’s walking on. It’s only a few paces to her right, so she follows it with her eyes as it winds away and down towards… a house? There’s a house out in the middle of nowhere. It pulls at something inside her, like a magnet, and Rey doesn’t hesitate as she makes her way towards it, down the path. 

There’s a familiarity to this area that she can’t quite place. Something about it just feels right. A glimmer at the edge of the thin woods just to the right of the house catches her eye, and as quick as she made for the house she abandons it in search of the light. She makes it in through the line of trees, unbothered by the ruckus she’s making by snapping branches and rustling leaves. She finds the source at the base of an oak tree; a small pile of stones, each one smooth and flat and round piled up on top of each other and a single, pink conch resting on top. So there is someone at least visiting the area, if not living in the house. 

Rey moves towards the pile of stone, hoping to get a better look at it when a voice calls out behind her. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Rey jumps and spins around. It’s Ben. Of course, it is. It’s always Ben. 

“What are you doing here?” Rey asks. 

“I live here,” he says.

“In that house?” Rey asks, pointing through the trees to where she hopes the house is. She’s a lot deeper in the woods than she anticipated being. 

“Yes, now come on,” he says, tilting his head, “you shouldn’t be here.” 

“Do you know what this is?” Rey asks, turning back to the pile of stones. 

Ben’s between her and it in a flash. “It’s not of your concern,” he says. 

“Why not?” 

“It just isn’t.” 

Rey starts to walk around him, but he matches her step for step. “Is it yours? What’s it for?”

Ben ignores her questioning. “Come on, if Snoke catches you out here -” 

“Snoke? Why is he here?” 

“He lives here, too. Now come on, you can’t be here.” 

“But -” 

“We have to go. You’re in danger here.” Ben grabs her by the elbow and pulls her with him, through the trees. Rey struggles to keep up with his strides, but she manages not to trip over everything that litters the ground. He pulls her out of the woods, towards the back of the house, and Rey finally realizes why it’s so familiar. 

“I’ve been here before,” she says. Upon the second story is a balcony, sparsely decorated save for a sea glass windchime that hangs still and silent. The french doors that open to what Rey assumes is the master bedroom are closed and gauzy yellowing curtains shielding the inside from her view. The grass before her is dry and brittle, yellowing the neglect. The flower beds at the foundation of the house have been overtaken with thick ivy and thorny weeds. 

“When?” Ben asks, stopping in his tracks. 

“In dreams,” Rey says, “a woman died here.” 

“How did she die?” 

“I don’t know. I never get that part. She screams and goes over, but I never see if she fell or was pushed.” 

Ben frowns, staring at the house, though his gaze seems much further away than that. He’s thinking about something, she can see it in his eyes, but exactly what is a mystery. He shakes himself out of it quickly, however, and turns back towards her. “Let’s leave. We can talk somewhere else,” he says, tugging her arm and starting towards the direction of civilization. 

“Wait, I need to go that way,” Rey says, pointing behind her. 

“Why?” 

“The graveyard. I wanted to visit my mother.” 

He nods, turning them both around. “It’s faster this way. Flatter land,” he says. 

He takes her back through the wood and down on a rocky cliff that overlooks the ocean. The southwest end of the island is much less green than the rest of it, and the rock beneath her feet is sharp enough that she worries about the soles of her shoes. Ben slows down and lets go of her arm when they’re far enough away that the trees meld together in a blur of leaves. Rey’s actually able to keep pace with him this time, though she’s a little out of breath from the whole ordeal. 

“Are you sure this way is faster?” Rey asks. 

“It’s at least a day’s hike through the hills. You would’ve been caught out in the dark.” 

“The island can’t be that big.” 

“It’s not a small as it looks. It’s just mostly uninhabitable, outside of the coasts.” 

Rey scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Of course it isn’t.” 

They walk in silence for a little while longer. She still can’t hear the waves, but the ocean is at least within sight now so she feels a little better. Ben seems to know where he’s going and what he’s doing, and she trusts him enough not to get the two of them lost. She’s still lagging behind him, so she jogs up to meet him. 

“Do you come out here often?” She asks.

He frowns down at her, and she realizes just how awkward that question was. 

“No. I don’t frequent graveyards,” Ben says. 

“Where do you usually go then?” 

“Where I’m told. Wherever Hux wants to go. Sometimes I’m allowed out by myself but I stick to the beaches and the woods,” he says. 

“By yourself?” 

Ben nods. 

“That sounds lonely.” 

He nods again. 

“Is that by choice or…” 

“If I had the choice I’d be anywhere but stuck here,” he snarls. 

Rey’s taken aback by his tone, but not completely put off. He’s bitter, that much is clear, but most likely because of the circumstance. She tries not to think about the way his face looked just the last time she saw him, but the bruises are still there, marring his face with unnatural yellow patches. 

“Ben, I -”

“The graveyard is just up this way,” he says, trudging forward with his head down and hands shoved into his jean pockets. Rey races after him. 

Rey had been expecting to find the graveyard overrun with weeds and vines, chained off and forgotten by the rest of the world. She’d figured that with it being so far away, no one would care anymore, that the island would encroach on the homes of the dead like the living had encroached on the rest of the island. That’s not what she finds, however. 

The graveyard does have a wrought iron fence and an imposing gate at its entrance, but it was free from any tangled vines or dead grass. The lawn is been manicured, and the tombstones stand upright not in straight rows but in clusters, as if the plan of the plots had been changed a few times in between generations. Rey’s not sure if she likes that better or worse than the eerie endless rows of graves, all lined up to give the illusion of order in death. At least this lack of planning gives the dead some space. 

Ben holds the gate open for her as they walk through. Like the rest of the island, the sky is clear and the sun is bright, but there’s a peace to the graveyard that’s unlike the rest of the island. This place is silent, like the hilly fields that surround it, but it’s a different flavor of silence. It’s reverent here.  While the rest of the island is uneasy, gagged by whatever secrets these islanders refuse to speak, this place is calm. The dead have no agenda. If their secrets are meant to be found out, they do not protest. 

Rey takes a few steps through the grass, taking it in. “Is there a groundskeeper?” She asks. 

“Of sorts,” Ben says. “It’s the sheriff's job to keep the graves looking like this.” He walks forward, surveying the area. 

“Wouldn’t she have more important things to do?” Rey asks. 

“I’m sure she makes time between all the carjackings and arson cases.” 

It takes Rey a second to register what he said but when she does she chuckles. He turns around and frowns at her. “Sorry, you just - I didn’t know you made jokes.” 

“It’s been known to happen,” he says, the barest hint of a smile sliding into place. 

Rey chuckles again, a little unsure of what to do or say and more than a little pleased with herself. Granted, she didn’t really do anything, but it’s nice to see him not so uptight, even if it’s just a tiny dent in his armor. 

“Come on,” he says, tipping his head, “let’s look for your mom.” 

Rey’s smile falters. Right. She’s here for a reason. 

They make their way through clusters of graves, both careful not to step too close to any of them. When Rey had done her research she’d found dozens of women, all very young and all died of drowning. While the names on paper had seemed like a lot it wasn’t until Rey started to notice them on the graves that it really hit her. A dozen names on a list was just a dozen little names, but a dozen graves - those are people. Those are daughters and mothers and wives who’d never be seen again. Those are broken families. Those are a dozen tragedies. The weight of it sinks into her core, and she feels much colder than the summer day should’ve allowed. 

Then a name catches her eye and freezes her mid-stride.  _ Padme Naberrie  _ carved into a black marble stone. She walks right towards it, kneeling in the grass before she knows what she’s doing, tracing the name with her fingers. 

“Rey?” Ben’s stopped too, though a few paces ahead of her. “Did you find her?” 

Rey shakes her head. “I know this name.” 

Ben comes around, standing at the foot of the grave. “How do you know it?” 

“Dreams,” she mutters. There’s a surreal sort of haze she can feel beginning to creep into her mind, like vaseline on a camera lens. 

“That same dreams as the house?” He asks. 

Rey nods. “She… she’s looking for something. She’s trying to get away from someone, her husband, I think. She finds it, but she… I never see how it ends. He gets in. They fight, they both come out onto the balcony and then she falls.” 

“She falls or she’s pushed?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Ben crouches behind her. “I was always told she was pushed,” he says. 

Rey can see his reflection staring at her in the marble, just over her shoulder. “I didn’t know she was real,” Rey says. 

“She used to be in charge of the island. It was peaceful back then. The Islanders didn’t kidnap our kind.” 

Rey licks her lips, chewing on the bottom one briefly before saying to hell with it and asking the question anyway. “What happened? Why’d it change?” 

“Greed. A foreigner came in and decided to use us. He turned Padme’s husband against her and when she chose the freedom of her kind over him she died. Without her, no one cared. Everyone pretended it wasn’t happening, as long as they made their money.” 

Rey swallows hard, remembering the dreams she’s had. She had put two and two together in her dreams, but knowing it wasn’t something her brain had concocted - it makes her stomach roll. 

Rey’s gaze falls down to the inscription on the grave.  _ Beloved wife. Gracious leader. Gentle mother of two _ . “Do you suppose her kids are still alive?” Rey asks.  

Ben’s reflection frowns. “Let’s go find your mother before we worry about anyone else’s.” 

Rey nods, rising to her feet and following him around to the graves on the other end of the graveyard. When Rey spots it, she’s pulled right to where her mother would be if there had been anything to bury. Her mother’s grave is nothing fancy, just a slab of stone engraved with a name, a birthdate, and a death date. There are no beautiful descriptions of who she was or of what she meant to anyone else. She didn’t even get parting wishes of peace like so many others did.

Rey sighs as she sits down and crisscrosses her legs. Ben’s standing behind her again, far enough that he can pretend he doesn’t hear her if she starts to speak. Rey had the intention of speaking, but now that she’s here she’s not sure what she should say. She’s no closer to any memory of her mother than when she started. All she has are questions. 

“I went to the library today,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. Ben nods but doesn’t say anything. Maybe if she just talks to him it will be easier. “I did what you said. I looked for my mother.” 

Rey takes a deep breath, staring at the hard stone in front of her. “I don’t have grandparents. My mother didn’t even have a birth certificate, just a birthdate. There’s no record of her or her family anywhere. The only time she’s mentioned is in my birth announcement and her obituary. If I didn’t exist I wouldn’t even believe she was a real person. She’s just… she’s from nowhere. She’s not even in this grave.” She sniffles, letting hot tears roll down her cheeks. 

Ben comes up beside her, folding himself into an awkward sitting position. 

Rey swallows around the tightness in her throat. “Why? Why don’t I know anything about her?” 

“A lot of women drown on this island,” Ben says. 

Rey scoffs. “Ben, don’t change the subject.” 

“Don’t you think it’s odd that so many women drown on this island? Women without families outside of their own children, all young, drowning when they’ve lived next to water their whole lives?” He continues. 

“Statistically -” she bites her lip, holding back the explanation she desperately wants to be true. Statistically, more people drown if more people are around water. But she’d be lying if she said the very same thing hadn’t bothered her. “Yes. It’s odd.” 

“Don’t you think it’s odd that your mother just… appeared one day and then vanished the next?” 

Rey tries to breathe normally, but her exhale warbles and teeters on the edge of a sob. “If she was… if it’s true… if this madness is true… why did she leave me?”

The words barely tumble out of her mouth before the dam bursts. Rey’s body jerks with the weight of her sobs and she’s making horrible, anguished noises that she just can’t stop. None of it makes sense. It doesn’t make sense that selkies would actually exist. It doesn’t make sense that she has dreams - visions - of the past. It doesn’t make sense that so many women would die the same way. And it doesn’t make sense that her mother seemingly doesn’t exist. None of it makes any sense. 

But at the same time, there’s something inside of her that knows it does when all taken together. The haze inside her mind takes over, pushing out all rational thought and she feels the sharp burn of everything she’s denied like a knife to the gut. The longing, the call of the sea, the constant feeling of otherness, it’s all right there, right at the forefront. 

“Why would she leave me?” Rey chokes out. 

Ben wraps his arm around her, pulling her close to his chest. Their thighs are pressed together and her neck is bent weird but he’s solid and warm and his heart beats steady and strong. She times her breathing to his, calming herself before she begins to hyperventilate. 

“Why did she leave me all alone?” Rey’s voice is thick and wet when she speaks. 

“You’re not alone,” he says, tipping her chin up. His eyes are soft and wet with unshed tears. 

Rey swallows, her nerves settling as she stares at him. She has to accept it now, doesn’t she? He’s not crazy and she was acting like an ass. He’s really one of the seal people, like her mother. Like her. And he’s stuck here, feeling just as abandoned as she is right now. 

“Neither are you,” she says. That deep ache inside her is still there, even more, present now, but a warmth begins to unfurl alongside it. It’s the same kind of tingle she’d felt during midsummer, though smaller and less wild. It’s a knowing, a recognition, that floods through her body when she looks up at Ben. They are the same;  not really human and too lonely for their own good. And neither of them have to be so alone anymore. 

His brow furrows as he purses his lips. He’s about to say something before she cuts him off. 

“I’m going to help you,” she says. “I believe you now. And I want to help.” 

“That’s not a good idea,” he says. 

“I don’t care.” And she means it. 

She doesn’t give him a chance to argue before she’s tucked back into his chest, squeezing him tight.

\---- 

Rey finds herself being shaken, though gently, back to awareness. She blinks, her eyes blurry and tired and not too keen on focusing. 

“Rey, wake up.” 

Rey groans, coming back to herself. She must’ve fallen asleep sometime after that little breakdown. She stretches, nearly smacking Ben in the face with her arm. “Sorry,” she mutters, taking account of where she is. She’s fallen asleep on him, literally, sitting between his legs with her back to his chest. And it’s been the best sleep she’s had in weeks. 

He helps her to her feet, her hand in his as she uses him for leverage. He doesn’t let go right away, and Rey’s not sure she wants him to. She looks down at where their hands are joined, then up at him. Ben starts to pull back but she won’t let him. 

“Is the hand holding… okay?” He asks. 

Rey nods. She’s tired, she just had a meltdown and a life-altering revelation. She’s craving a little human contact and she’s not ashamed to indulge in it. 

Ben also nods, though it seems to be more to himself like he’s agreeing to whatever’s going through his mind. “We should get back before it gets dark,” he says. The sun is quite a bit lower in the sky now, but it’s not sunset just yet. 

They don’t speak as they make their way back but they don’t need to. It’s not awkward or strange or combative. It’s comfortable, friendly, even.  

Ben lets go of her hand when they reach the divide between the town and the field. “I have to go back. I’ve been gone all day,” he says, looking like a kicked puppy. 

Rey frowns, clasping her hands in front of her. She can still feel the ghost of his touch. She hates that it’s gone. “That’s okay,” she says, “we can meet again tomorrow if you want.” 

“You’d want that?” He’s so surprised it’s almost cute. Almost. 

“Yeah. I can’t really find a way to help you if I never see you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Could we meet here again?” She asks. “I’m less likely to get lost if we meet here, I think.” 

Ben looks past her, down the street. “I can do that.” 

“Okay, good.” She rocks back on her heels. Well, there’s that awkwardness that was missing before. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says. She makes no move to turn around and go. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he echoes. He doesn’t move either. 

Then Rey does one of the dumbest things she’s ever done in her life. She waves at him. They’re three feet away and she waves. Ben responds by looking at her like she’s got a fish on her head.

At least it’s the thing that spurs her into moving. She turns around, muttering one more goodbye, and heads down the street and back to Maz’s. Hopefully, she’ll be able to sleep a little better tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you liked this chapter by tossing me a comment or a kudo! I love and appreciate both. 
> 
> I have a [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/rosemoonweaver) account and a [dreamwidth](https://rosemoonweaver.dreamwidth.org/) now, as tumblr decided to be lame and ban boobs.


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